I 

I 


THE 


STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


A  NARRATIVE  OF  IRISH  HISTORY 


FROM    THE    EARLIEST    AGES    TO    THE  FENIAN 
INSURRECTION   OF   1867.  * 

DETAILING  IN  CHRONOLOGICAL  ORDER 

ALL  THE  IMPORTANT  EVENTS  OF  THE  REIGNS  OF  THE  KINGS 
AND  CHIEFTAINS,  AND  EMBRACING  AUTHENTIC  ACCOUNTS 
OF  THEIR  SEVERAL  WARS  WITH  THE  ROMANS, 
BRITONS,  DANES,  AND  NORMANS, 

WITH  GRAPHIC  DESCRIPTIONS  OF  THE 

BATTLE  OF  CLONTARF,  STRONGBOW'S  INVASION,  DEATH  OF  RODERICK 
O'CONNOR  (LAST  KING  OF  IRELAND),  CROMWELL'S  INVASION, 
SIEGE  OF  DERRY  AND  BATTLE  OF  THE  BOYNE,  SIEGE  OF 
LIMERICK,  PENAL  LAWS,  THE  VOLUNTEERS,  THE 
UNITED  IRISHMEN,  CATHOLIC  EMANCIPATION 
AND  REPEAL,  THE  YOUNG  IRELANDERS, 
FENIAN  INSURRECTION,  ETC. 


BY 

ALEXANDER  M.  SULLIVAN,  M.R 

CONTINUED  TO  THE  PRESENT  TIME  BY 

P.  D.  NUNAN. 


EMBELLISHED  WITH  NUMEROUS  ENGRA  VINGS. 


MURPHY 


BOSTON  : 

AND  McCarthy, 
1885. 


44498 


TO 


MY  YOUNG  FELLOW-COUNTRYMEN 

AT  HOME  AND  IN  EXILE,  IN  THE  COTTAGE  AND  THE  MANSION, 
AMIDST  THE  GREEN  FIELDS  AND  IN  THE 
CROWDED  CITIES, 
leOON  TO  BE  THE  MEN  OF  IRELAND, 


E  ©etii'cate  ti^ijs  ILi'ttle  Book, 


WHICH  CONTAINS  THE  STORY  OF  OUR  COUNTRY, 
AND  SUBSCRIBE  MYSELF  THEIR  FRIEND, 
THE  AUTHOR. 


AUTHOR'S  PREFACE. 


HIS  little  book  is  written  for  young  people.  It  does 
not  pretend  to  the  serious  character  of  a  History  of 
Ireland.  It  does  not  claim  to  be  more  than  a  compi- 
lation from  the  many  admirable  works  which  have 
been  published  by  painstaking  and  faithful  historians.  It  is  an 
effort  to  interest  the  young  in  the  subject  of  Irish  history,  and 
attract  them  to  its  study. 

I  say  so  much  in  deprecation  of  the  stern  judgment  of  learned 
critics.  I  say  it  furthermore  and  chiefly  by  way  of  owning  my 
obligations  to  those  authors  the  fruits  of  whose  researches  have 
been  availed  of  so  freely  by  me.  To  two  of  these  in  particular, 
Mr.  M'Gee  and  Mr.  Haverty,  I  am  deeply  indebted.  In  sev- 
eral instances,  even  where  I  have  not  expressly  referred  to  my 
authority,  I  have  followed  almost  literally  the  text  supplied  by 
them.  If  I  succeed  in  my  design  of  interesting  my  young 
fellow-countrymen  in  the  subject  of  Irish  history,  I  recommend 
them  strongly  to  follow  it  up  by  reading  the  works  of  the  two 
historians  whom  I  have  mentioned.  They  possess  this  immeas- 
urable advantage  over  every  other  previously  published  history 
of  Ireland,  that  in  them  the  authors  were  able  to  avail  them- 
selves of  the  rich  stores  of  material  brought  to  light  by  tlie 
lamented  O'Curry  and  O'Donovan,  by  Todd,  Greaves,  Wilde, 
Meehan,  Gilbert,  and  others.  These  revelations  of  authentic 
history,  inaccessible  or  unknown  to  previous  history-writers,  not 


v 


vi 


A  UTIIOll  \S  PUEFA  CE. 


only  throw  a  flood  of  light  upon  many  periods  of  our  history 
heretofore  darkened  and  obscured,  but  may  be  said  to  have 
given  to  many  of  the  most  important  events  in  our  annals  an 
aspect  totally  new,  and  in  some  instances  the  reverse  of  that 
commonly  assigned  to  them.  Mr.  Haverty's  book  is  Irish  his- 
tory clearly  and  faithfully  traced,  and  carefully  corrected  by 
recent  invaluable  archaeological  discoveries ;  Mr.  M'Gee's  is 
the  only  work  of  the  kind  accessible  to  our  people  which  is  yet 
more  than  a  painstaking  and  reliable  record  of  events.  It  rises 
above  mere  chronicling,  and  presents  to  the  reader  the  philoso- 
phy of  history,  assisting  him  to  view  great  movements  and 
changes  in  their  comprehensive  totality,  and  to  understand  the 
principles  which  underlay,  promoted,  guided,  or  controlled  them. 

In  all  these,  however,  the  learned  and  gifted  authors  have 
aimed  high.  They  have  written  for  adult  readers.  Mine  is  an 
humble,  but  I  trust  it  may  prove  to  be  a  no  less  useful,  aim. 
I  desire  to  get  hold  of  the  young  people,  and  not  to  oflfer  them 
a  learned  and  serious  history,"  which  might  perhaps  be  asso- 
ciated in  their  minds  with  school  tasks  and  painful  efforts  to 
remember  when  this  king  reigned  or  whom  that  one  slew  ;  but 
to  have  a  pleasant  talk  with  them  about  Ireland  ;  to  tell  them 
its  story,  after  the  manner  of  simple  storytellers  ;  not  confusing 
their  minds  with  a  mournful  series  of  feuds,  raids,  and  slaugh- 
ters, merely  for  the  sake  of  noting  them  ;  or  with  essays  u\)on 
the  state  of  agriculture  or  commerce,  religion  or  science,  at  par- 
ticular periods  —  all  of  which  they  will  find  instructive  when 
they  grow  to  an  age  to  comprehend  and  be  interested  in  more 
advanced  works.  I  desire  to  do  for  our  young  people  that 
which  has  Ijeen  well  done  for  the  youth  of  England  by  inmier- 
ous  writers.  I  desire  to  interest  them  in  their  country  ;  to  con- 
vince them  that  its  history  is  no  wild,  dreary,  and  uninviting 
monotony  of  internecine  slaughter,  but  an  entertaining  and  in- 
structive narrative  of  stirring  events,  abounding  with  episodes, 
thrilling,  glorious,  and  beiuitiful. 

I  do  not  take  upon  myself  tlie  credit  of  being  the  first  to 
remember  that  the  Child  is  father  of  the  Man.''  The  Rev. 
John  0*Hanlon's  admirable     Catechism  of  Irish  History has 


AUTHOR'S  PREFACE. 


vii 


already  well  appi^eiated  that  fact.  I  hope  there  will  follow 
many  besides  myself  to  eater  for  the  amusement  and  instruction 
of  the  young  people.  They  deserve  more  attention  than  has 
hitherto  been  paid  them  by  our  Irish  book- writers.  In  child- 
hood or  boyhood  to-day,  there  rapidly  approaches  for  them  a 
to-morrow,  bringing  manhood,  with  its  cares,  duties,  responsi- 
bilities. When  we  w^io  have  preceded  them  shall  have  passed 
away  for  ever,  the}^  will  be  the  men  on  whom  Ireland  must  de- 
pend. They  will  make  her  future.  They  wuU  guide  her  desti- 
nies. They  will  guard  her  honour.  They  will  defend  her  life. 
To  the  service  of  this  Irish  Nation  of  the  Future  "  I  devote 
the  following  pages,  confident  that  my  young  friends  will  not 
fail  to  read  aright  the  lesson  which  is  taught  by  The  Story  of 
Ireland.'' 

DuBLi>',  loth  August,  1867. 


\ 


INTRODUCTORY. 


HOW  WE  LEAKN  THE  FACTS  OF  EARLY  HISTORY. 

T  may  occur  to  my  young  friends,  that,  before  I  begin 
my  narration,  I  ought  to  explain  how  far  or  by  what 
means  any  one  now  living  can  correctly  ascertain  and 
narrate  the  facts  of  very  remote  history.  The  reply 
is,  that  what  we  know  of  history  anterior  to  the  keeping  of 
written  records,  is  derived  from  the  traditions  handed  down 
"  by  word  of  mouth  "  from  generation  to  generation.  We  may 
safely  assume  that  the  commemoration  of  important  events  by 
this  means,  was,  at  first,  unguarded  or  unregulated  by  any 
public  authority,  and  accordingly  led  to  much  confusion,  exag-' 
geration,  and  corruption ;  but  we  have  positive  and  certain  in- 
formation that  at  length  steps  were  taken  to  regulate  these  oral 
communications,  and  guard  them  as  far  as  possible  from  cor- 
ruption. The  method  most  generally  adopted  for  ^perpetuating 
them  was  to  compose  them  into  historical  chants  or  verse-histo- 
ries, which  were  easily  committed  to  memory,  and  were  recited 
on  all  public  or  festive  occasions.  When  written  records  began 
to  be  used,  the  events  thus  commemorated  were  set  down  in  the 
regular  chronicles.  Several  of  these  latter,  in  one  shape  or 
another,  are  still  in  existence.  From  these  we  chiefly  derive 
our  knowledge,  such  as  it  is,  of  the  ancient  history  of  Erinn. 

It  is,  however,  necessary  to  remember  that  all  history  of  very 
early  or  remote  times,  unless  what  is  derived  from  the  narratives 

ix 


X 


IXTRODVCTORY. 


of  Holy  AVrit,  is  clouded,  to  a  greater  or  lesser  degree,  with 
doubt  and  obscurity,  and  is,  to  a  greater  or  lesser  degree,  a  hazy 
mixture  of  probable  fact  and  manifest  fable.  When  writing 
was  unknown,  and  before  measures  were  taken  to  keep  the 
oral  traditions  with  exactitude  and  for  a  public  purpose,  and 
while  yet  events  were  loosely  handed  down  by  unregulattnl 
'  *  hearsay ' '  which  no  one  was  charged  to  guard  from  exaggera- 
tion and  corruption,  some  of  the  facts  thus  commemorated 
])ecame  gradually  distorted,  until,,  after  great  lapse  of  time, 
whatever  was  described  as  marvellously  wonderful  in  the  past, 
was  set  down  as  at  least  partly  superyiatuml^  and  the  long  dead 
heroes  whose  prowess  had  become  fabulously  exaggerated,  came 
to  be  regarded  as  demi-gods.  It  is  thus  as  regards  the  early 
history  of  ancient  Rome  and  Greece.  It  is  thus  with  the  early 
history  of  Ireland,  and  indeed  of  all  other  European  countries. 

It  would,  however,  be  a  great  blunder  for  any  one  to  con- 
clude that  because  some  of  those  old  mists  of  early  tradition 
contain  such  gross  absurdities,  they  contain  no  truths  at  all. 
Investigation  is  every  day  more  and  more  clearly  establishing 
the  fact  that,  shrouded  in  some  of  the  most  alxsurd  of  those 
fables  of  antiquity,  there  are  indisputable  and  \  aluable  truths 
of  history. 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter  Page 

Author's  Preface   v 

Introductory  —  How  we  learn  the  facts  of  early  history   .  ix 
I.  How  the  Milesians  sought  and  found  "  the  Promised  Isle  *' 

—  and  conquered  it                                            .      .  1 

II.  How  Ireland  fared  under  the  Milesian  dynasty  ...  7 

III.  How  the  Unfree  Clans  tried  a  revolution ;  and  what  came 

of  it.   How  the  Romans  thought  it  vain  to  attempt  a 

conquest  of  Ireland   11 

IV.  Bardic  tales  of  Ancient  Erinn.      The  Sorrowful  Fate  of 

the  Children  of  Usna "   15 

V.  The  death  of  King  Conor  Mac  Nessa   25 

VI.  The  ''Golden  Age"  of  Pre-Christian  Erinn       ...  30 

'V  II.  How  Ireland  received  the  Christian  faith    ....  38 
^VIII.  A  retrospective  glance  at  pagan  Ireland      .      .      .  .42- 
IX.  Christian  Ireland.   The  Story  of  Columba,  the  "Dove  of 

the  Cell"   47 

X.  The  Danes  in  Ireland   68 

XI.  How  "Brian  of  the  Tribute"  became  a  High  King  of 

Erinn   73 

XII.  . How  a  dai-k  thunder-cloud  gathered  over  Ireland      .      .  81 

"^Xni.  The  glorious  day  of  Clontarf   85 

^XIV.  "After  the  Battle."   The  scene  "upon  Ossory's  plain." 

The  last  days  of  national  freedom   95 

XV.  How  England  became  a  compact  kingdom,  while  Ireland 

^              was  breaking  into  fragments   9<J 

XVI.  How  Henry  the  Second  feigned  wondrous  anxiety  to  heal 

the  disorders  of  Ireland   102 

-XVII.  The  treason  of  Diarmid  M'Murrogh   104 

^  XVIII.  How  the  Norman  adventurers  got  a  foothold  on  Irish  soil,  101^ 
XIX.  How  Henry  recalled  the  adventurers.    How  he  came  over 

himself  to  punish  them  and  befriend  the  Irish      .  .11(3 

xi 


xii 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter  Page 
XX.  How  Henry  made  a  treaty  with  the  Irish  king— -and  did 

not  keep  it  123 

XXI.  Death-bed  scenes  129 

XXII.  How  the  Anglo-Norman  colony  fared  132 

XXIII.  "  The  bier  that  conquered."   The  story  of  Godfrey  of  Tyr- 

connell  137 

XXIV.  How  the  Irish  nation  awoke  from  its  trance,  and  flung  off 

its  chains.   The  career  of  King  Edward  Bruce     .      .  146 
XXV.  How  this  bright  day  of  independence  was  turned  to  gloom. 

How  the  seasons  fought  against  Ireland,  and  famine 

for  England  153 

XXVI.  How  the  Anglo-Irish  lords  learned  to  prefer  Irish  man- 
ners, laws,  and  language,  and  were  becoming  "  more 
Irish  than  the  Irish  themselves."  How  the  king  in  Lon- 
don took  measures  to  arrest  that  dreaded  evil  .  .  160 
XXVII.  How  the  vain-glorious  Richard  of  England  and  his  over- 
whelming army  failed  to  "dazzle"  or  conquer  the 
Prince  of  Leinster.   Career  of  the  heroic  Art  M'Mur- 

rogh  165 

XXVIII.  How  the  vain-glorious  English  king  tried  another  campaign 
against  the  invincible  Irish  prince,  and  was  utterly  de- 
feated as  before  174 

XXIX.  How  the  civil  wars  in  England  left  the  Anglo-Irish  colony 
to  ruin.   How  the  Irish  did  not  grasp  the  opportunity  of 

easy  liberation  180 

XXX.  How  a  new  element  of  antagonism  came  into  the  struggle. 

How  the  English  king  and  nation  adopted  a  new  reli- 
gion, and  how  the  Irish  held  fast  by  the  old    .      .  .183 
XXXI.  "Those  Geraldines!  those  Geraldines!  "     ....  188 
XXXII.  The  rebellion  of  Silken  Thomas  196 

XXXIII.  How  the  "  Reformation  "  was  accomplished  in  England, 

and  how  it  was  resisted  in  Ireland  206 

XXXIV.  How  the  Irish  chiefs  gave  up  all  hope  and  yielded  to 

Henry ;  and  how  the  Irish  clans  served  the  chiefs  for 

such  treason  211 

XXXV.  Henry's  successors:  Edward,  Mary,  and  Elizabeth.  The 

career  of  "  John  the  Proud  "  216 

XXXVI.  How  the  Geraldines  once  more  leagued  against  England 
under  the  banner  of  the  cross.  How  "  the  royal  Pope  " 
was  the  earliest  and  the  most  active  ally  of  the  Irish 

cause  220 

XXXVII.  How  Commander  Cosby  held  a  "  feast "  at  MuUaghmast; 

and  how  "  RuariOge  recompensed  that  "  hospitality." 
A  viceroy's  visit  to  Glenmalure,  and  his  reception 

there  2;U 

XXXVIII.  "Hugh  of  Dungannon."  How  Queen  Elizabeth  brought 
up  the  young  Irish  chief  at  court,  with  certain  crafty 
designs  of  her  own      ........  -37 


xiii 


Chapter  Page 
XXXIX.  How  Lord  Deputy  Perrot  planned  a  right  cunning  expedi- 
tion, and  stole  away  the  youthful  prince  of  Tyrconnell. 
How,  in  the  dungeons  of  Dublin  Castle,  the  boy  chief 
learned  his  duty  towards  England ;  and  how  he  at 
length  escaped  and  commenced  discharging  that  duty,  241 
XL.  How  Hugh  of  Dungannon  was  meantime  drawing  off 

from  England  and  drawing  near  to  Ireland    .      .      .  250 
XLI.  How  Ked  Hugh  went  circuit  against  the  English  in  the 

North.   How  the  crisis  came  upon  O'Neill     .      .  .255 
XLII.  O'Neill  in  arms  for  Ireland.   Clontibret  and  Beal-an-atha- 

buie       .  .258 

XLIII.  How  Hugh  formed  a  great  national  confederacy  and  built 

up  a  nation  once  more  on  Irish  soil  274 

XLIV.  How  the  reconstructed  Irish  nation  was  overborne.  How 
the  two  Hughs  ''fought  back  to  back"  against  their 
overwhelming  foes.  How  the  "  Spanish  aid  "  ruined  the 
Irish  cause.  The  disastrous  battle  of  Kinsale  .  .  280 
XLV.  *'  The  last  Lord  of  Beara."  How  Donal  of  Dunboy  was 
assigned  a  perilous  prominence,  and  nobly  undertook  its 
duties.   How  Don  Juan's  imbecility  or  treason  ruined 

the  Irish  cause  288 

XL VI.  How  the  queen's  forces  set  about  "tranquillizing"  Mun- 
ster.  How  Carew  sent  Earl  Thomond  on  a  mission  into 

Carbery,  Bear,  and  Bantry  295 

XLVIL  How  the  lord  president  gathered  an  army  of  four  thousand 
men  to  crush  doomed  Dunboy,  the  last  hope  of  the 

national  cause  in  Munster  299 

XL VIII.  The  last  days  of  Dunboy  :  a  tale  of  heroism      ...  302 
XLIX.  How  the  fall  of  Dunboy  caused  King  Philip  to  change  all 
his  plans,  and  recall  the  expedition  for  Ireland ;  and  how 
the  reverse  broke  the  brave  heart  of  Red  Hugh.  How 
the  "  Lion  of  the  North  "  stood  at  bay,  and  made  his 
foes  tremble  to  the  last       .      .      .      .      .      .      •  311 

L.  The  retreat  to  Leitrim;  "the  most  romantic  and  gallant 

achievement  of  the  age "   .      .      ,      .      .      .      .  319 

LI.  How  the  government  and  Hugh  made  a  treaty  of  peace. 
How  England  came  under  the  Scottish  monarchy;  and 
how  Ireland  hopefully  hailed  the  Gaelic  sovereign      .  330 
LII.  **The  Flight  of  the  Earls."   How  the  princes  of  Ireland 

went  into  exile,  menaced  by  destruction  at  home  .  .  336 
LIII.  A  memorable  epoch.  How  Milesian  Ireland  finally  disap- 
peared from  history ;  and  how  a  new  Ireland  —  Ireland 
in  exile  —  appeared  for  the  first  time.  How  "planta- 
tions "  of  foreigners  were  designed  for  the  *'  coloniza- 
tion "  of  Ireland,  and  the  extirpation  of  the  native  race,  347 
LIV.  How  the  lords  justices  got  up  the  needful  bloody  fury  in 
England  by  a  ''dreadful  massacre"  stor3^  How  the 
Confederation  of  Kilkenny  came  about  .      .      .  .362 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter  ^age 
LV.  KSometliing  al)oiit  the  conflicting  elements  of  the  civil  war 
in  1642-n.   How  tlic  Confederate  Catholics  made  good 
their  position,  and  established  a  national  government 

in  Ireland  ;>(;9 

LYI.  How  King  Charles  opened  negotiations  with  the  Confeder- 
ate Council.  How  the  Anglo-Irish  party  would  "  have 
peace  at  any  price,"  and  the  ''native  Irish"  party 
stood  out  for  peace  with  honour.  How  Pope  Innocent 
the  Tenth  sent  an  envoy  — "not  empty-handed  "  — to 

aid  the  Irish  cause  373 

LVII.  How  the  nuncio  freed  and  armed  the  hand  of  Owen  Roe, 
and  bade  him  strike  at  least  one  worthy  blow  for  God 
and  Ireland.   How  gloriously  Owen  struck  that  blow  at 

Benburb  .'W) 

LVIII.  How  the  king  disavowed  the  treaty,  and  the  Irish  repu- 
diated it.  How  the  council  by  a  worse  blunder  clasped 
hands  with  a  sacrilegious  murderer,  and  incurred  ex- 
communication. How  at  length  the  royalists  and  con- 
federates concluded  an  honourable  peace  .  ,  .  r>S7 
LIX.  How  Cromwell  led  the  Puritan  rebels  into  Ireland.  How 
Ireland  by  a  lesson  too  terrible  to  be  forgotten  was 
taught  the  danger  of  too  much  loyalty  to  an  English 

sovereign   391 

LX.  The  agony  of  a  nation  394 

LXT.  How  King  Charles  the  Second  came  back  on  a  compro- 
mise. How  a  new  massacre  story  was  set  to  work.  The 

martyrdom  of  Primate  Plunkett  4<>4 

LXII.  How  King  James  the  Second,  by  arbitrarily  asserting 
liberty  of  conscience,  utterly  violated  the  will  of  the 
English  nation.  How  the  English  agreed,  confeder- 
ated, combined,  and  conspired  to  depose  the  king,  and 
beat  up  for  "  foreign  emissaries  "  to  come  and  begin  the 

rebellion  for  them  411 

LXHI.  How  William  and  James  met  face  to  face  at  the  Boyne. 

A  plain  sketch  of  the  battle-field  and  the  tactics  of  the 

day  .  417 

LXIV.  "  Before  the  battle  "  42J 

LXV.  The  battle  of  the  Boyne  42t; 

LXVI.  How  James  abandoned  the  struggle;  but  the  Irish  would 

not  give  up  43r» 

LXVII.  How  William  sat  down  before  Limerick  and  began  the 
siege.    Sarsfield's  midnight  ride  —  the  fate  of  William's 

siege  train  439 

LXVIII.  How  William  procured  a  new  siege  train  and  breached  the 
wall.  How  the  women  of  Limerick  won  their  fame  in 
Irish  history.  How  the  breach  was  stormed  and  the 
mine  sprung.  How  William  fled  from  "  unconquered 
Limerick"   .447 


CONTENTS. 


XV 


Cftaptkr  Paht- 
LXIX.  How  the  French  .'tailed  off,  and  the  deserted  Irish  army 
starved  in  rags,  hut  would  not  give  up  the  right.  Ar- 
rival of  St.  Ruth,  the  Vain  and  Brave  "...  452 
LXX.  How  Ginckel  hesieged  Athlone.  How  the  Irish  "  kept 
the  hridge,"  and  how  the  brave  Custumc  and  his  glori- 
ous companions  "died  for  Ireland."    How  Athlone, 

thus  saved,  was  lost  in  an  hour  454 

LXXI.  ''The  Culloden  of  Ireland."  How  Aughrim  was  fought 
and  lost.  A  story  of  the  hattle-tield ;  "  the  dog  of  Augh- 
rim," or,  fidelity  in  death  46^ 

LXXII.  How  glorious  Limerick  once  more  braved  the  ordeal. 

How  at  length  a  treaty  and  capitulation  were  agreed 
upon.    How  Sarsfield  and  the  Irish  army  sailed  into 

exile  475 

LXXIII.  How  the  Treaty  of  Limerick  was  broken  and  trampled 
under  foot  by  the  **  Protestant  interest,"  yelling  for 
more  plunder  and  more  persecution      ....  482 

-LXXIV.  "  The  penal  times."   How  "  Protestant  ascendency  "  by  a 
bloody  penal  code  endeavoured  to  brutify  the  mind, 
destroy  the  intellect,  and  deform  the  physical  and 
moral  features  of  the  subject  Catholics  ....  488 

LXXV.  The  Irish  army  in  exile.   How  Sarsfield  fell  on  Landen 
Plain.    How  the  regiments  of  Burke  and  O'Mahoney 
saved  Cremona,  fighting  in  "  muskets  and  shirts."  The 
glorious  victory  of  Fontenoy !    How  the  Irish  exiles, 
faithful  to  the  end,  shared  the  last  gallant  effort  of 
Prince  Charles  Edward      .      .      .      .      .      .  .492 

LXXVI.  How  Ireland  began  to  awaken  from  the  sleep  of  slavery. 

The  dawn  of  legislative  independence     ....  502 

LXXYII.  How  the  Irish  volunteers  achieved  the  legislative  inde- 
pendence of  Ireland ;  or,  how  the  moral  force  of  a  citi- 
zen army  effected  a  peaceful,  legal,  and  constitutional 

revolution  508 

LXXVIII.  What  national  independence  accomplished  for  Ireland. 

How  England  once  more  broke  faith  with  Ireland,  and 
repaid  generous  trust  with  base  betrayal  .      .      .  .517 
LXXIX.  How  the  English  minister  saw  his  advantage  in  provok- 
ing Ireland  into  an  armed  struggle;  and  how  heartlessly 

he  laboured  to  that  end  520 

LXXX.  How  the  British  minister  forced  on  the  rising.  The  fate 
of  the  brave.  Lord  Edward.  How  the  brothers  Sheares 
died  hand-in-hand.  The  rising  of  ninety-eight  .  .  525 
LXXXI.  How  the  government  conspiracy  now  achieved  its  pur- 
pose. How  the  parliament  of  Ireland  was  extin- 
guished  530) 

LXXXII.  Ireland  after  the  Union.  The  story  of  Kobert  Emmet  .  549 
LXXXIIL  How  the  Irish  Cathalics,  under  the  leadership  of  O'Con- 

nell,  won  Catholic  emancipation      .      ♦      ,      ,      .  559 


XYl 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter  Page 
LXXXIV.  How  the  Irish  people  next  sought  to  achieve  the  restora- 
tion of  their  legislative  independence.  How  England 
answered  them  with  a  challenge  to  the  sword  .  .  566 
LXXXV.  How  the  horrors  of  the  famine  had  their  effect  on  Irish 
politics.  How  the  French  revolution  set  Europe  in  a 
flame.  How  Ireland  made  a  vain  attempt  at  insur- 
rection  575 

LXXXVI.  How  the  Irish  exodus  came  about,  and  the  English  press 
gloated  over  the  anticipated  extirpation  of  the  Irish 

race  582 

LXXXVII.  How  some  Irishmen  took  to  "the  politics  of  despair." 

How  England's  revolutionary  teachings  "  came  home 
to  roost."  How  General  John  O'Neill  gave  Colonel 
Booker  a  touch  of  Fontenoy  at  Ridgeway  .  .  .587 
LXXXVIII.  The  unfinished  chapter  of  eighteen  hundred  and  sixty- 
seven.  How  Ireland,  "oft  doomed  to  death,"  has 
shown  that  she  is  "  fated  not  to  die  "  ....  595 
LXXXIX.  The  Fenian  rising  and  what  followed  it.  The  ''sur- 
prise" of  Chester  Castle.  The  *' Jacknell"  expedi- 
tion.  The  Manchester  rescue  (505 

XO.  Funeral  processions  for  the  martyrs.   Agitation  for  am- 
nesty and  disestablishment.   Clerkenwell  and  Bally- 

cohey  .  614 

XCI.  The  home  rule  movement.    Its  defects  and  failure. 

"Obstruction."    A  success.   The  Land  League  .      .  626 
XCII.  The  visions  at  Knock.    The  Land  League  proclaimed. 

Arrest  of  the  leaders.  The  "No  rent"  manifesto. 
The  Arrears  Act.  The  Pljcenix  Park  tragedy.  Shoot- 
ing of  James  Carey  and  trial  of  O'Donnell.  The 
National  League       .      ,      ,  644 

VALEDICTORY  .      .  661 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


CHAPTER  I. 

HOW  THE  MILESIANS  SOUGHT  AND  FOUND  "THE  PROM- 
ISED isle"  —  AND  CONQUERED  IT. 

^^S^^^HE  earliest  settlement  or  colonization  of  Ireland 
1^  of  which  there  is  tolerabl}^  precise  and  satisfac- 
tory information,  was  that  by  the  sons  of  Miledh 
or  Milesius,  from  whom  the  Irish  are  occasionally 
styled  Milesians.  There  are  abundant  evidences  that  at 
least  two  or  three  "waves"  of  colonization  had  long  previ- 
ously reached  the  island ;  but  it  is  not  very  clear  whence 
they  came.  Those  first  settlers  are  severally  known  in 
history  as  the  Partholanians,  the  Nemedians,  the  Firbolgs, 
and  the  Tuatha  de  Danaans.  These  latter,  the  Tuatha  de 
Danaans,  who  immediately  preceded  the  Milesians,  pos- 
sessed a  civilization  and  a  knowledge  of  "arts  and  sci- 
ences" which,  limited  as  we  may  be  sure  it  was,  greatly 
amazed  the  earlier  settlers  (whom  they  had  subjected)  by 
the  results  it  produced.  To  the  Firbolgs  (the  more  early 
settlers)  the  wonderful  things  done  by  the  conquering 
new-comers,  and  the  wonderful  knowledge  they  displayed, 
could  only  be  the  results  of  supernatural  power.  Accord- 
ingly they  set  down  the  Tuatha  de  Danaans  as  "magi- 

1 


2 


TBE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


cians,"  an  idea  which  the  Milesians,  as  we  shall  present! j' 
see,  also  adopted. 

The  Firbolgs  seem  to  have  been  a  pastoral  race ;  the 
Tuatha  de  Danaans  were  more  of  a  manufacturing  and 
commercial  people.  The  soldier  Milesian  came,  and  he 
ruled  over  all. 

The  Milesian  colony  reached  Ireland  from  Spain,^  but 
they  were  not  Spaniards.  They  were  an  eastern  people 
who  had  tarried  in  that  country  on  their  way  westward, 
seeking,  they  said,  an  island  promised  to  the  posterity  of 
tlieir  ancestor,  Gadelius.  Moved  by  this  mysterious  pur- 
pose to  fulfil  their  destiny,  they  had  passed  from  land  to 
land,  from  the  shores  of  Asia  across  the  wide  expanse  of 
southern  Europe,  bearing  aloft  through  all  their  wander- 
ings the  Sacred  Banner,  which  symbolized  to  them  at 
once  their  origin  and  their  mission,  the  blessing  and  the 
promise  given  to  their  race.  This  celebrated  standard, 
the  "  Sacred  Banner  of  the  Milesians,"  was  a  flag  on 
which  was  represented  a  dead  serpent  and  the  rod  of 
Moses ;  a  device  to  commemorate  for  ever  amongst  the 
posterity  of  Gadelius  the  miracle  by  which  his  life  had 
been  saved.  The  storj^  of  this  event,  treasured  with  sin- 
gular pertinacity  by  the  Milesians,  is  told  as  follows  in 
their  traditions,  which  so  far  I  have  been  following:  — 

While  Gadelius,  being  yet  a  child,  was  sleeping  one 
day,  he  was  bitten  by  a  poisonous  serpent.  His  father  — 
Niul,  a  younger  son  of  the  king  of  Scythia  —  carried  the 
child  to  the  camp  of  the  Israelites,  then  close  by,  where 
the  distracted  parent  with  tears  and  prayers  implored 
the  aid  of  Moses.  The  inspired  leader  was  profoundly 
touched  by  the  anguish  of  Niul.  He  laid  the  child  down, 
and  pra3'ed  over  him  ;  then  he  touched  with  his  rod  the 

1  The  settled  Irish  account;  but  this  is  also  disputed  by  theorists  who 
contend  that  all  the  waves  of  colonization  reached  Ireland  from  the  conti- 
nent across  Britain. 


THE  STORY  OF  IE  ELAND. 


3 


wound,  and  the  boy  arose  healed.  Then,  say  the  Mile- 
sians, the  man  of  God  promised  or  prophesied  for  the 
posterity  of  the  young  prince,  that  they  should  inhabit 
a  country  in  which  no  venomous  reptile  could  live,  an 
island  which  they  should  seek  and  find  in  the  track  of  the 
setting  sun. 

It  was  not,  however,  until  the  third  generation  subse- 
quently that  the  descendants  and  people  of  Gadelius  are 
found  setting  forth  on  their  prophesied  wanderings ;  and 
of  this  migration  itself —  of  the  adventures  and  fortunes 
of  the  Gadelian  colony  in  its  journeyings  —  the  history 
would  make  a  volume.  At  length  we  find  them  tarrying 
in  Spain,  where  they  built  a  city,  Brigantia,  and  occupied 
and  ruled  a  certain  extent  of  territory.  It  is  said  that 
Ith  (pronounced  "  Eeh  " ),  uncle  of  Milesius,  an  adven- 
turous explorator,  had,  in  his  cruising  northward  of  the 
Brigantian  coast,  sighted  the  Promised  Isle,  and  landing 
to  explore  it,  was  attacked  by  the  inhabitants  (Tuatha  de 
Danaans),  and  mortally  wounded  ere  he  could  regain  his 
ship.  He  died  at  sea  on  the  way  homeward.  His  body 
was  reverentially  preserved  and  brought  back  to  Spain  by 
his  son,  Lui  (spelled  Lugaid),^  who  had  accompanied  him, 
and  who  now  summoned  the  entire  Milesian  host  to  the 
last  stage  of  their  destined  wanderings — to  avenge  the 
death  of  Ith,  and  occupy  the  Promised  Isle.  The  old 
patriarch  himself,  Miledh,  had  died  before  Lui  arrived; 
but  his  sons  all  responded  quickly  to  the  summons;  and 

1  Here  let  me  at  the  outset  state,  once  for  all,  that  I  have  decided,  after 
mature  consideration,  to  spell  most  of  the  Irish  names  occurring  in  our 
annals  according  to  their  correct  pronunciation  or  sound,  and  not  according 
to  their  strictly  correct  orthography  in  the  Irish  language  and  typography. 
I  am  aware  of  all  that  may  fairly  be  said  against  this  course,  yet  consider 
the  weight  of  advantage  to  be  on  its  side.  Some  of  our  Irish  names  are 
irretrievahly  Anglicized  in  the  worst  form  —  uncouth  and  absurd.  Choosing 
therefore  between  difficulties  and  objections,  I  have  decided  to  rescue  the 
correct  pronunciation  in  this  manner;  giving,  besides,  with  sufficient  fre- 
quency, the  correct  orthography. 


4 


THE  STOHY  of  IRELAND. 


the  widowed  queen,  their  mother,  Scota,  placed  herself  at 
the  head  of  the  expedition,  which  soon  sailed  in  thirty 
galleys  for  ''the  isle  they  had  seen  in  dreams."  The 
names  of  the  sons  of  Milesius  who  thus  sailed  for  Ireland 
were,  Heber  the  Fair,  Amergin,  Heber  the  Brown,  Colpa, 
Ir,  and  Heremon ;  and  the  date  of  this  event  is  generally 
supposed  to  have  been  about  fourteen  hundred  years 
before  the  birth  of  our  Lord. 

At  that  time  Ireland,  known  as  Innis  Ealga  (the  Noble 
Isle),  was  ruled  over  by  three  brothers,  Tuatha  de  Danaan 
princes,  after  whose  wives  (who  were  three  sisters)  the 
island  was  alternately  called,  Eire,  Banba  (or  Banva),  and 
Fiola  (spelled  Fodhla),  by  which  names  Ireland  is  still 
frequently  styled  in  national  poems.  Whatever  difficul- 
ties or  obstacles  beset  the  Milesians  in  landing  they  at 
once  attributed  to  the  "  necromancy  "  of  the  Tuatha  de 
Danaans,  and  the  old  traditions  narrate  amusing  stories 
of  the  contest  between  the  resources  of  magic  and  the 
power  of  valour.  When  the  Milesians  could  not  discover 
land  where  they  thought  to  sight  it,  they  simply  agreed 
that  the  Tuatha  de  Danaans  had  by  their  black  arts  ren- 
dered it  invisible.  At  length  they  descried  the  island,  its 
tall  blue  hills  touched  by  the  last  beams  of  the  setting 
sun,  and  from  the  galleys  there  arose  a  shout  of  joy;  Innis- 
fail,  the  Isle  of  Destiny,  was  found  ^  ^    But  lo,  next  morn- 

1  In  Moore's  Melodies  the  event  here  related  is  made  the  subject  of  the  fol- 
lowing verses: — 

"  They  came  from  a  land  beyond  the  sea, 

And  now  o'er  the  western  main 
Set  sail,  in  their  good  ships,  gallantly, 

From  the  sunny  land  of  Spain. 
*  Oh,  Where's  the  Isle  we've  seen  in  dreams, 

Our  destin'd  home  or  grave?  ' 
Thus  sung  they  as,  by  the  morning's  beams, 

They  swept  the  Atlantic  wave. 

*'  And,  lo,  where  afar  o'er  ocean  shines 
A  sparkle  of  radiant  green. 
As  though  in  that  deep  lay  emerald  mines, 
Whose  light  through  the  wave  was  se«n. 


TEE  STOBT  OF  IRELAND, 


6 


ing  the  land  was  submerged,  until  only  a  low  ridge  ap- 
peared above  the  ocean.  A  device  of  the  magicians,  say 
the  Milesians.  Nevertheless  they  reached  the  shore  and 
made  good  their  landing.  The  "magician"  inhabitants, 
however,  stated  that  this  was  not  a  fair  conquest  by  the 
rules  of  war ;  that  they  had  no  standing  army  to  oppose 
the  Milesians ;  but  if  the  new-comers  would  again  take  to 
their  galleys,  they  should,  if  able  once  more  to  effect  a  la7id- 
ing^  be  recognized  as  masters  of  the  isle  by  the  laws  of 
war. 

The  Milesians  did  not  quite  like  the  proposition.  They 
feared  much  the  necromancj^ "  of  the  Tuatha  de  Da- 
naans.  It  had  cost  them  trouble  enough  already  to  get 
their  feet  upon  the  soil,  and  they  did  not  greatly  relish 
the  idea  of  having  to  begin  it  all  over  again.  They 
debated  the  point,  and  it  was  resolved  to  submit  the  case 
to  the  decision  of  Amergin,  who  was  the  OUav  (the 
Learned  Man,  Lawgiver,  or  Seer)  of  the  expedition. 
Amergin,  strange  to  say,  decided  on  the  merits  against 
his  own  brothers  and  kinsmen,  and  in  favour  of  the 
Tuatha  de  Danaans.  Accordingly,  with  scrupulous  obe- 
dience to  his  decision,  the  Milesians  relinquished  all  thej^ 
had  so  far  won.  They  reembarked  in  their  galleys,  and, 
as  demanded,  withdrew  "  nine  waves  off  from  the  shore." 
Immediately  a  hurricane,  raised,  say  their  versions,  by 
the  spells  of  the  magicians  on  shore,  burst  over  the  fleet, 

*  'Tis  Innisfail  —  'tis  Innisfail ! ' 

Rings  o'er  the  echoing  sea; 
While,  bending  to  heav'n,  the  warriors  hail 

That  home  of  the  brave  and  fpee. 

"  Then  turn'd  they  unto  the  Eastern  wave, 

Where  now  their  Day-God's  eye 
A  look  of  such  sunny  omen  gave 

As  lighted  up  sea  and  sky. 
Nor  frown  was  seen  through  sky  or  sea, 

Nor  tear  o'er  leaf  or  sod, 
When  first  on  their  Isle  of  Destiny 

Our  great  forefathers  trod,** 


6 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


dispersing  it  in  all  directions.  Several  of  the  princes  and 
chiefs  and  their  wives  and  retainers  were  drowned.  The 
Milesians  paid  dearly  for  their  chivalrous  acquiescence  in 
the  rather  singular  proposition  of  the  inhabitants  endorsed 
by  the  decision  of  Amergin.  Wheii  they  did  land  next 
time,  it  was  not  in  one  combined  force,  but  in  detachments 
widely  separated  ;  some  at  the  mouth  of  the  Boyne ; 
others  on  the  Kerry  coast.  A  short  but  fiercely  contested 
campaign  decided  the  fate  of  the  kingdom.  In  the  first 
great  pitched  battle,  which  was  fought  in  a  glen  a  few 
miles  south  of  Tralee,!  the  Milesians  were  victorious. 
But  they  lost  the  aged  Queen-Mother,  Scota,  who  fell 
amidst  the  slain,  and  was  buried  beneath  a  royal  cairn  in 
Glen  Scohene,  close  by.  Indeed  the  Queens  of  ancient 
Ireland  figure  very  prominently  in  our  history,  as  we  shall 
learn  as  we  proceed.  In  the  final  engagement,  which  was 
fought  at  Tailtan  in  Meath,  between  the  sons  of  Milesius 
and  the  three  Tuatha  de  Danaan  kings,  the  latter  were 
utterly  and  finally  defeated,  and  were  themselves  slain. 
And  with  their  husbands,  the  three  brothers,  there  fell 
upon  that  dreadful  day,  when  crown  and  country,  home 
and  husband,  all  were  lost  to  them,  the  three  sisters, 
Queens  Eire,  Banva,  and  Fiola ! 

1  AU  that  I  have  been  here  relating  is  a  condensation  of  traditions,  very 
old,  and  until  recently  little  valued  or  credited  by  historical  theorists.  Yet 
singular  corroborations  have  been  turning  up  daily,  establishing  the  truth 
of  the  main  facts  thus  handed  down.  Accidental  excavations  a  few  years 
since  in  the  glen  which  tradition  has  handed  down  as  the  scene  of  this 
battle  more  than  thi^ee  thousand  years  agOy  brought  to  light  full  corrobora- 
tion of  this  fact,  at  least,  that  a  battle  of  great  slaughter  was  fought  upon 
the  exact  spot  some  thousands  of  years  ago. 


THE  STORY  OF  IBELAND. 


7 


CHAPTER  II. 

HOW  IRELAND  FARED  UNDER  THE  MILESIAN  DYNASTY. 

■'^^^i^T  is  unnecessary  to  follow  through  their  details  the 
^  proceedings  of  the  Milesian  princes  in  the  period 
^  immediately  subsequent  to  the  landing.  It  will 
^  suffice  to  state  that  in  a  comparatively  brief  time 
they  subdued  the  country,  entering,  however,  into  regular 
pacts,  treaties,  or  alliances  with  the  conquered  but  not 
powerless  Firbolgs  and  Tuatha  de  Danaans.  According 
to  the  constitution  under  which  Ireland  was  governed  for 
more  than  a  thousand  years,  the  population  of  the  island 
were  distinguished  in  two  classes  —  the  Free  Clans,  and 
the  Unfree  Clans  ;  the  former  being  the  descendants  of  the 
Milesian  legions,  the  latter  the  descendants  of  the  sub- 
jected Tuatha  de  Danaans  and  Firbolgs.  The  latter  were 
allowed  certain  rights  and  privileges,  and  to  a  great  extent 
regulated  their  own  internal  affairs;  but  they  could  not 
vote  in  the  selection  of  a  sovereign,  nor  exercise  any  other 
of  the  attributes  of  full  citizenship  w^ithout  special  leave. ' 
Indeed,  those  subject  populations  occasioned  the  conquer- 
ors serious  trouble  by  their  hostility  from  time  to  time  for 
centuries  afterwards. 

The  sovereignty  of  the  island  was  jointly  vested  in,  or 
assumed  by,  Heremon  and  Heber,  the  Romulus  and  Remus 
of  ancient  Ireland.  Like  these  twin  brothers,  who,  seven 
hundred  years  later  on,  founded  Rome,  Heber  and  Here- 
mon quarrelled  in  the  sovereignty.  In  a  pitched  battle 
fought  between  them  Heber  was  slain,  and  Heremon  re- 
mained sole  ruler  of  the  island.  For  more  than  a  thousand 
years  the  dynasty  thus  established  reigned  in  Ireland,  the 
sceptre  never  passing  out  of  the  family  of  Milesius  in 


8 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


the  direct  line  of  descent,  unless  upon  one  occasion  (to 
which  I  shall  more  fully  advert  at  the  proper  time)  for  the 
brief  period  of  less  than  twenty  years.  The  Milesian 
sovereigns  appear  to  have  exhibited  considerable  energy 
in  organizing  the  country  and  establishing  what  we  may 
call  ''institutions,"  some  of  which  have  been  adopted  or 
copied,  with  improvements  and  adaptations,  by  the  most 
civilized  governments  of  the  present  day ;  and  the  island 
advanced  in  renown  for  valour,  for  wealth,  for  manufac- 
tures, and  for  commerce. 

By  this,  however,  my  young  readers  are  not  to  suppose 
that  anything  like  the  civilization  of  our  times,  or  even 
faintly  approaching  that  to  which  ancient  Greece  and 
Rome  afterwards  attained,  prevailed  at  this  period  in  Ire- 
land. Not  so.  But,  compared  with  the  civilization  of  its 
own  period  in  Northern  and  Western  Europe,  and  recol- 
lecting how  isolated  and  how  far  removed  Ireland  was 
from  the  great  centre  and  source  of  colonization  and  civil- 
ization in  the  East,  the  civilization  of  pagan  Ireland  must 
be  admitted  to  have  been  proudly  eminent.  In  the  works 
remaining  to  us  of  the  earliest  writers  of  ancient  Rome, 
we  find  references  to  Ireland  that  attest  the  high  position 
it  then  held  in  the  estimation  of  the  most  civilized  and 
learned  nations  of  antiquity.  From  our  own  historians 
we  know  that  more  than  fifteen  hundred  j^ears  before  the 
birth  of  our  Lord,  gold  mining  and  smelting,  and  artistic 
working  in  the  precious  metals,  were  carried  on  to  a  great 
extent  in  Ireland.  Numerous  facts  might  be  adduced  to 
prove  that  a  high  order  of  political,  social,  industrial,  and 
intellectual  intelligence  prevailed  in  tlie  country.  Even 
in  an  age  which  was  rudely  barbaric  elsewhere  all  over  the 
world,  the  superiority  of  intellect  over  force,  of  the  scholar 
over  the  soldier,  was  not  only  recognized  but  decreed  by 
legislation  in  Ireland !  We  find  in  the  Irish  chronicles 
that  in  the  reign  of  Eochy  the  First  (more  thaii  a  thousand 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


9 


years  before  Christ)  society  was  classified  into  seven 
grades,  each  marked  by  the  number  of  colours  in  its  dress, 
and  that  in  this  classification  men  of  leariiiyig^  i.e.,  eminent 
scholars,  or  savants  as  they  would  now  be  called,  were  by 
law  ranked  next  to  royalty. 

But  the  most  signal  proof  of  all,  attesting  the  existence 
in  Ireland  at  that  period  of  a  civilization  marvellous  for 
its  time,  was  the  celebrated  institution  of  the  Feis  Tara, 
or  Triennial  Parliament  of  Tara,  one  of  the  first  formal 
parliaments  or  legislative  assemblies  of  which  we  have 
record.^  This  great  national  legislative  assembly  was  in- 
stituted by  an  Irish  monarch,  whose  name  survives  as  a 
synonym  of  wisdom  and  justice,  OUav  Fiola,'who  reigned 
as  Ard-Ri  of  Erinn  about  one  thousand  years  before  the 
birth  of  Christ.  To  this  assembly  were  regularly  sum- 
moned :  — 

Firstly  —  All  the  subordinate  royal  princes  or  chief- 
tains ; 

Secondly  —  OUavs  and  bards,  judges,  scholars,  and  his- 
torians ;  and 

Thirdly  —  Military  commanders. 

We  have  in  the  old  records  the  most  precise  accounts 
of  the  formalities  observed  at  the  opening  and  during  the 
sitting  of  the  assembly,  from  which  we  learn  that  its  pro- 
ceedings were  regulated  with  admirable  order  and  con- 
ducted with  the  greatest  solemnity. 

Nor  was  the  institution  of  triennial  parliaments"  the 
only  instance  in  which  this  illustrious  Irish  monarch,  two 
thousand  eight  hundred  years  ago,  anticipated  to  a  certain 
extent  the  forms  of  constitutional  government  of  which 
the  nineteenth  century  is  so  proud.  In  the  civil  adminis- 
tration of  the  kingdom  the  same  enlightened  wisdom  was 
displayed.    He  organized  the  country  into  regular  prefec- 


1  The  Arapliictyonic  Council  did  not  hj  any  means  partake  to  a  like 
extent  of  the  nature  and  character  of  a  parliament. 


10 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


tures.  "Over  every  cantred,"  says  the  historian,  '^he 
appointed  a  chieftain,  and  over  every  townland  a  kind  of 
prefect  or  secondary  chief,  all  being  the  officials  of  the 
king  of  Ireland."  After  a  reign  of  more  than  forty  years, 
this  "  true  Irish  king "  died  at  an  advanced  age,  having 
lived  to  witness  long  the  prosperity,  happiness,  and  peace 
which  his  noble  efforts  had  diffused  all  over  the  realm. 
His  real  name  was  Eochy  the  Fourth,  but  he  is  more  fa- 
miliarly known  in  history  by  the  title  or  soubriquet  of 
"  Ollav  Fiola,"  that  is,  the  "  Ollav,"  or  lawgiver,  preemi- 
nently of  Ireland,  or  Fiola." 

Though  the  comparative  civilization  of  Ireland  at  this 
remote  time  was  so  high,  the  annals  of  the  period  disclose 
the  usual  recurrence  of  wars  for  the  throne  between  rival 
members  of  the  same  dynasty,  which  early  and  mediaeval 
European  history  in  general  exhibits.  Reading  over  the 
history  of  ancient  Ireland,  as  of  ancient  Greece,  Rome, 
Assyria,  Gaul,  Britain,  or  Spain,  one  is  struck  by  the 
number  of  sovereigns  who  fell  by  violent  deaths,  and  the 
fewness  of  those  who  ended  their  reigns  otherwise.  But 
those  were  the  days  when  between  kings  and  princes, 
chiefs  and  warriors,  the  sword  was  the  ready  arbiter  that 
decided  all  causes,  executed  all  judgments,  avenged  all 
wrongs,  and  accomplished  all  ambitions.  Moreover,  it  is 
essential  to  bear  in  mind  that  the  kings  of  those  times 
commanded  and  led  their  own  armies,  not  merely  in  theory 
or  by  "legal  fiction,"  but  in  reality  and  fact;  and  that 
personal  participation  in  the  battle  and  prowess  in  the  field 
were  expected  and  were  requisite  on  the  part  of  the  royal 
commander.  Under  such  circumstances  one  can  easily 
perceive  how  it  came  to  pass,  naturally  and  inevitables 
that  the  battle-field  became  ordinarily  the  deathbed  of  the 
king.  In  those  early  times  the  kings  who  did  not  fall  by 
the  sword,  in  fair  battle  or  unfair  assault,  were  the  excep- 
tions everywhere.    Yet  it  is  a  remarkable  fact,  that  we 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


11 


find  the  average  duration  of  the  reigns  of  Irish  monarchs, 
for  fifteen  hundred  or  two  thousand  years  after  the  Mile- 
sian dynasty  ascended  the  throne,  was  as  long  as  that  of 
most  European  reigns  in  the  seventeenth,  eighteenth,  and 
nineteenth  centuries.  Several  of  the  Milesian  sovereigns 
enjoyed  reigns  extending  to  over  thirty  years;  some  to 
fifty  years.  Many  of  them  were  highly  accomplished  and 
learned  men,  liberal  patrons  of  arts,  science,  and  com- 
merce ;  and  as  one  of  them,  fourteen  hundred  years  before 
the  Christian  era,  instituted  regularly  convened  parlia- 
ments, so  we  find  others  of  them  instituting  orders  of 
knighthood  and  Companionships  of  Chivalry  long  before 
we  hear  of  their  establishment  elsewhere. 

The  Irish  kings  of  this  period,  as  well  as  during  the 
first  ten  centuries  of  the  Christian  age,  in  frequent  in- 
stances intermarried  with  the  royal  families  of  other 
countries  —  Spain,  Gaul,  Britain,  and  Alba ;  and  the  com- 
merce and  manufactures  of  Ireland  were,  as  the  early 
Latin  writers  acquaint  us,  famed  in  all  the  marts  and  ports 
of  Europe. 


CHAPTER  III. 

HOW  THE  UJSTFREE  CLANS  TRIED  A  REVOLUTION;  AND 
WHAT  CAME  OF  IT.  HOW  THE  ROMANS  THOUGHT  IT 
VAIN  TO  ATTEMPT  A  CONQUEST  OF  IRELAND. 

TURING  those  fifteen  hundred  years  preceding 
the  Christian  era,  the  other  great  nations  of 
Europe,  the  Romans  and  the  Greeks,  were  pass- 
ing, by  violent  changes  and  bloody  convulsions, 
through  nearly  every  conceivable  form  of  government  — 
republics,  confederations,  empires,  kingdoms,  limited  mon- 


12 


THE  STOUT  OF  IBELANB. 


archies,  despotisms,  consulates,  etc.  During  the  like 
period  (fifteen  centuries)  the  one  form  of  government,  a 
limited  monarchy,  and  the  one  dynasty,  the  Milesian,  ruled 
in  Ireland.  The  monarchy  was  elective^  but  elective  out 
of  the  eligible  members  of  the  established  or  legitimate 
dynasty. 

Indeed  the  principle  of  legitimacy,"  as  it  is  sometimes 
called  in  our  times  —  the  hereditary  right  of  a  ruling 
family  or  dynasty  —  seems  from  the  earliest  ages  to  have 
been  devotedly,  I  might  almost  say  superstitiously,  held 
by  the  Irish.  Wars  for  the  crown,  and  violent  changes  of 
rulers,  were  always  frequent  enough;  but  the  wars  and 
the  changes  were  always  between  members  of  the  ruling 
family  or  "  blood  royal ;  "  and  the  two  or  three  instances 
to  the  contrary  that  occur,  are  so  singularly  strong  in  their 
illustration  of  the  fact  to  which  I  have  adverted,  that  I 
will  cite  one  of  them  here. 

The  Milesians  and  the  earlier  settlers  never  completely 
fused.  Fifteen  hundred  years  after  the  Milesian  landing, 
the  Firbolgs,  the  Tuatha  de  Danaans,  and  the  Milesians 
were  still  substantially  distinct  races  or  classes,  the  first 
being  agriculturists  or  tillers  of  the  soil,  the  second  manu- 
facturers and  merchants,  the  third  soldiers  and  rulers. 
The  exactions  and  oppressions  of  the  ruling  classes  at  one 
time  became  so  grievous  that  in  the  reign  succeeding  that 
of  Creivan  the  Second,  who  was  the  ninety-ninth  Milesian 
monarch  of  Ireland,  a  wide-spread  conspiracy  was  organ- 
ized for  the  overthrow  and  extirpation  of  the  Milesian 
princes  and  aristocracy.  After  three  years  of  secret 
preparation,  everything  being  ready,  the  royal  and  noble 
Milesian  families,  one  and  all,  were  invited  to  a  "  monster 
meeting"  for  games,  exhibitions,  feastings,  etc.,  on  the 
plain  of  Knock  Ma,  in  the  county  of  Galway.  The  great 
spectacle  had  lasted  nine  days,  when  suddenly  the  Mile- 
sians were  set  upon  by  the  Attacotti  (as  the  Latin  chroni- 


THE  STOUT  OF  IRELAND, 


IS 


clers  called  the  conspirators),  and  massacred  to  a  man. 
Of  the  royal  line  there  escaped,  however,  three  princes, 
children  yet  unborn.  Their  mothers,  wives  of  Irish  princes, 
were  the  daughters  respectively  of  the  kings  of  Scotland, 
Saxony,  and  Brittany.  They  succeeded  in  escaping  into 
Albion,  where  the  three  young  princes  were  born  and 
educated.  The  successful  conspirators  raised  to  the  throne 
Carbry  the  First,  who  reigned  five  years,  during  which 
time,  say  the  chronicles,  the  country  was  a  prey  to  every 
misfortune ;  the  earth  refused  to  yield,  the  cattle  gave  no 
milk,  the  trees  bore  no  fruit,  the  waters  had  no  fish,  and 
"  the  oak  had  but  one  acorn."  ^  Carbry  was  succeeded  by 
his  son,  Moran,  whose  name  deservedly  lives  in  Irish  his- 
tory as  "  Moran  the  Just."  He  refused  to  wear  the  crown, 
which  belonged,  he  said,  to  the  royal  line  that  had  been 
so  miraculously  preserved ;  and  he  urged  that  the  rightful 
princes,  who  by  this  time  had  grown  to  man's  estate, 
should  be  recalled.  Moran's  powerful  pleading  com- 
mended itself  readily  to  the  popular  conscience,  already 
disquieted  by  the  misfortunes  and  evil  omens  which,  as 
the  people  read  them,  had  fallen  upon  the  land  since  the 
legitimate  line  had  been  so.  dreadfully  cut  down.  The 
young  princes  were  recalled  from  exile,  and  one  of  them, 
Faradah  the  Righteous,  was,  amidst  great  rejoicing,  elected 
king  of  Ireland.  Moran  was  appointed  chief  judge  of 
Erinn,  and  under  his  administration  of  justice  the  land 
long  presented  a  scene  of  peace,  happiness,  and  content- 

1  Such  was  the  deep  faith  the  Irish  had  in  the  principle  of  legitimacy  in 
a  dynasty!  This  characteristic  of  nearly  all  the  Celtic  nations  survives  in 
all  its  force  in  the  Jacobite  Relics  of  Ireland,  the  outbursts  of  Irish 
national  feeling  seventeen  hundred  years  subsequently .  Ex.  r/r.  Compare 
the  above,  taken  from  an  old  chronicle  of  the  period,  with  the  well-known 
Jacobite  song  translated  from  the  Irish  by  Callanan:  — 

"  No  more  the  cuckoo  hails  the  spring ; 
No  more  the  woods  with  staunch  hounds  ring; 
The  8U71  scarce  lights  the  sorfX>icing  day, 
/Since  the  rightful  prince  is  far  away.''* 


14 


THE  STORY  OF  IBELAND, 


ment.  To  the  gold  chain  of  office  which  Moran  wore  on 
the  judgment  seat,  the  Irish  for  centuries  subsequently 
attached  supernatural  powers.  It  was  said  that  it  would 
tighten  around  the  neck  of  the  judge  if  he  was  unjustly 
judging  a  cause  I 

The  dawn  of  Christianity  found  the  Romans  masters  of 
nearly  the  whole*  of  the  known  world.  Britain,  after  a 
short  struggle,  succumbed,  and  eventually  learned  to  love 
the  yoke.  Gaul,  after  a  gallant  effort,  was  also  over- 
powered and  held  as  a  conquered  province.  But  upon 
Irish  soil  the  Roman  eagles  were  never  planted.  Of  Ire- 
land, or  lerne,  as  they  called  it,  of  its  great  wealth  and 
amazing  beauty  of  scenery  and  richness  of  soil,  the  all- 
conquering  Romans  heard  much.  But  they  had  heard 
also  that  the  fruitful  and  beautiful  island  was  peopled  by 
a  soldier  race,  and,  judging  them  by  the  few  who  occa- 
sionally crossed  to  Alba  to  help  their  British  neighbours, 
and  whose  prowess  and  skill  the  imperial  legions  had 
betimes  to  prove,  the  conquest  of  lerne  was  wisely  judged 
by  the  Romans  to  be  a  work  better  not  attempted. 

The  early  centuries  of  the  Christian  era  may  be  consid- 
ered the  period  preeminently  of  pagan  bardic  or  legen- 
dary fame  in  Ireland.  In  this,  which  we  may  call  the 
"  Ossianic  "  period,  lived  Cuhal  or  Cumhal,  father  of  the 
celebrated  Fin  Mac  Cumhal,  and  commander  of  the  great 
Irish  legion  called  the  Fiana  Erion,  or  Irish  militia.  The 
Ossianic  poems  ^  recount  the  most  marvellous  stories  of 
Fin  and  the  Fiana  Erion,  which  stories  are  compounds  of 
undoubted  facts  and  manifest  fictions,  the  prowess  of  the 
heroes  being  in  the  course  of  time  magnified  into  the  super- 
natural, and  the  figures  and  poetic  allegories  of  the  earlier 
bards  gradually  coming  to  be  read  as  realities.  Some  of 
these  poems  are  gross,  extravagant,  and  absurd.  Others 

1  So  caUed  from  their  author,  Oisiii,  or  Ossian,  the  warrior  poet,  son  of 
Fin,  and  grandson  of  Cuhal. 


THE  STOUT  OF  IRELAND. 


15 


of  them  arc  of  rare  beauty,  and  are,  moreover,  valuable 
for  the  insight  they  give,  tliough  obliquely,  into  the  man- 
ners and  customs,  thoughts,  feelings,  guiding  principles, 
and  moving  passions  of  the  ancient  Irish. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

BARDIC  TALES  OF   ANCIENT  ERINN.     "THE  SORROWFUL 
FATE  OF  THE  CHILDREN  OF  USNA." 

^NE  of  the  oldest,  and  perhaps  the  most  famous, 
of  all  the  great  national  history -poems  or  bardic 
tales  of  the  ancient  Irish,  is  called  The  Fate  of 
the  Children  of  Usna,"  the  incidents  of  which 
belong  to  the  period  preceding  by  half  a  century  the 
Christian  era,  or  anno  mundi  3960.  Indeed  it  was  always 
classified  by  the  bards  as  one  of  "  The  Three  Sorrowful 
Tales  of  Erinn."  Singularly  enough,  the  story  contains 
much  less  poetic  fiction,  and  keeps  much  closer  to  the 
simple  facts  of  history,  than  do  several  of  the  poems  of 
Ossian's  time,  written  much  later  on.  From  the  highly 
dramatic  and  tragic  nature  of  the  events  related,  one  can 
well  conceive  that,  clad  in  the  beautiful  idiom  of  the  Irish 
tongue  and  told  in  the  fanciful  language  of  poetry,  The 
Story  of  the  Children  of  Usnach  "  was  calculated  to  win  a 
prominent  place  amongst  the  bardic  recitals  of  the  pagan 
Irish.  A  semi-fanciful  version  of  it  has  been  given  in 
English  at  great  length  by  Dr.  Ferguson  in  the  Hibernian 
Nights'  Entertainment ;  but  the  story  is  variously  related 
by  other  narrators.  As  it  may,  perhaps,  be  interesting  to 
my  young  readers,  I  summarize  the  various  versions  here, 


16 


THE  SfOEY  OF  IB  ELAND. 


as  the  only  specimen  I  mean  to  give  of  the  semi-imag- 
inative literature  of  the  pagan  Irish :  — 

When  Conor  Mac  Nessa  was  reigning  king  of  Ulidia, 
and  Eochy  the  Tenth  was  Ard-Ri  of  Erinn,  it  happened 
one  day  that  Conor  had  deigned  to  be  present  at  a  feast 
which  was  given  at  the  house  of  Felemi,  son  of  the  laure- 
ate of  Ulster.  While  the  festivities  were  going  on,  it 
came  to  pass  that  the  wife  of  the  host  gave  birth  to  a 
daughter ;  and  the  infant  being  brought  into  the  presence 
of  the  king  and  the  other  assembled  guests,  all  saw  that  a 
beauty  more  than  natural  had  been  given  to  the  child. 
In  the  midst  of  remark  and  marvel  on  all  hands  at  the 
circumstance,  Kavaiee,  the  chief  Druid  of  the  Ulidians, 
cried  out  with  a  loud  voice  and  prophesied  that  through 
the  infant  before  them  there  would  come  dark  woe  and 
misfortune  to  Ulster,  such  as  the  land  had  not  known  for 
years.  When  the  warriors  heard  this,  they  all  demanded 
that  the  child  should  instantly  be  put  to  death.  But 
Conor  interposed  and  forbade  the  deed.  "I,"  said  the 
king,  will  myself  take  charge  of  this  beautiful  child  of 
destiny.  I  shall  have  her  reared  where  no  evil  can  befall 
through  her  or  to  her,  and  in  time  she  may  become  a  wife 
for  me."  Then  the  chief  Druid,  Kavaiee,  named  the  child 
Deirdri,  which  means  alarm  or  danger.  Conor  placed  the 
infant  under  the  charge  of  a  nurse  or  attendant,  and  sub- 
sequently a  female  tutor,  in  a  residence  situated  in  a 
district  which  no  foot  of  man  was  allowed  to  tread ;  so 
that  Deirdri  had  grown  to  the  age  of  woman  before  she 
saw  a  human  form  other  than  those  of  her  female  attend- 
ants. And  the  maiden  was  beautiful  beyond  aught  that 
the  eye  of  man  had  ever  beheld. 

Meanwhile,  at  the  court  of  the  Ulidian  king  was  a 
young  noble  named  Naeisi,  son  of  Usna,  whose  manly 
beauty,  vigour,  activity,  and  bravery  were  the  theme  of 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


17 


every  tongue.  One  day,  accompanied  only  by  a  faithful 
deerhound,  Naeisi  had  hunted  the  deer  from  the  rising  of 
the  sun,  until,  towards  evening,  he  found  the  chase  had 
led  him  into  a  district  quite  strange  to  his  eye.  He  paused 
to  think  how  best  he  might  retrace  his  way  homeward, 
when  suddenly  the  terrible  idea  flashed  across  his  mind, 
that  he  was  within  the  forbidden  ground  which  it  was 
death  to  enter  —  the  watchfully-guarded  retreat  of  the 
king's  mysterious  protegee^  Deirdri.  While  pondering  on 
his  fatal  position,  he  came  suddenly  upon  Deirdri  and  her 
nurse,  who  were  strolling  in  the  sunset  by  a  running 
stream.  Deirdri  cried  out  with  joy  to  her  attendant,  and 
asked  what  sort  of  a  being  it  was  who  stood  beyond  ;  foi 
she  had  never  seen  any  such  before.  The  consternation 
and  embarrassment  of  the  aged  attendant  were  extreme, 
and  she  in  vain  sought  to  baffle  Deirdri's  queries,  and  to 
induce  her  to'  hasten  homeward.  Naeisi  too,  riveted  by 
the  beauty  of  Deirdri,  even  though  he  knew  the  awful 
consequences  of  his  unexpected  presence  there,  stirred 
not  from  the  scene.  He  felt  that  even  on  the  penalty  of 
death  he  would  not  lose  the  enchanting  vision.  He  and 
Deirdri  spoke  to  each  other;  and  eventually  the  nurse, 
perplexed  at  first,  seems  to  have  become  a  confidante  to 
the  attachment  which  on  the  spot  sprung  up  between  the 
young  people. 

It  was  vain  for  them,  however,  to  hide  from  themselves 
the  fate  awaiting  them  on  the  king's  discovery  of  their 
affection,  and  accordingly  Naeisi  and  Deirdri  arranged 
that  they  would  fly  into  Alba,  where  they  might  find  a 
home.  Now  Naeisi  was  greatly  loved  by  all  the  nobles  of 
Ulster ;  but  most  of  all  was  he  loved  by  his  two  brothers, 
Anli  and  Ardan,  and  his  affection  for  them  caused  him  to 
feel  poignantly  the  idea  of  leaving  them  for  ever.  So  he 
confided  to  them  the  dread  secret  of  his  love  for  Deirdri, 
and  of  the  flight  he  and  she  had  planned.    Then  Anli 


18 


THE  STORY  OF  IBELAND, 


and  Ardan  said  that  wherever  Naeisi  would  fly,  thither 
also  would  they  go,  and  with  their  good  swords  guard 
their  brother  and  the  wife  for  whom  he  was  sacrificing 
home  and  heritage.  So,  privately  selecting  a  trusty  band 
of  one  hundred  and  fifty  warriors,  Naeisi,  Anli,  and  Ardan, 
taking  Deirdri  with  them,  succeeded  in  making  their  es- 
cape out  of  Ireland  and  into  Alba,  where  the  king  of  that 
country,  aware  of  their  noble  lineage  and  high  valour, 
assigned  them  ample  "maintenance  and  quarterage,"  as 
the  bards  express  it.  There  they  lived  peacefuUj^  and 
happily  for  a  time,  until  the  fame  of  Deirdri's  unequalled 
beauty  made  the  Albanian  king  restless  and  envious, 
reflecting  that  he  might,  as  sovereign,  himself  claim  her 
as  wife,  which  demand  at  length  he  made.  Naeisi  and 
his  brothers  were  filled  with  indignation  at  this ;  but  their 
difficulty  was  extreme,  for  whither  now  could  they  fly? 
Ireland  was  closed  against  them  for  ever ;  and  now  they 
were  no  longer  safe  in  Alba !  The  full  distress  of  their 
position  was  soon  realized;  for  the  king  of  Alba  came 
with  force  of  arms  to  take  Deir(5ri.  After  many  desperate 
encounters  and  adventures,  however,  any  one  of  which 
would  supply  ample  materials  for  a  poem-story,  the  exiled 
brothers  and  their  retainers  made  good  their  retreat  into 
a  small  island  off  the  Scottish  coast. 

When  it  was  heard  in  Ulidia  that  the  sons  of  Usna  were 
in  such  sore  strait,  great  murmurs  went  round  amongst 
the  nobles  of  Ulster,  for  Naeisi  and  his  brothers  were 
greatly  beloved  of  them  all.  So  the  nobles  of  the  prov- 
ince eventually  spoke  up  to  the  king,  and  said  it  was  hard 
and  a  sad  thing  that  these  three  young  nobles,  the  fore- 
most warriors  of  Ulster,  should  be  lost  to  their  native 
land  and  should  suffer  such  difficulty  ''on  account  of  one 
woman."  Conor  saw  what  discontent  and  disaffection 
would  prevail  throughout  the  province  if  the  popular 
favourites  were  not  at  once  pardoned  and  recalled.  He 


TEE  STOnr  OF  IRELAND. 


19 


consented  to  the  entreaties  of  the  nobles,  and  a  royal 
courier  was  dispatched  with  the  glad  tidings  to  the  sons 
of  Usna. 

When  the  news  came,  joy  beamed  on  every  face  but  on 
that  of  Deirdri.  She  felt  an  unaccountable  sense  of  fear 
and  sorrow,  "  as  if  of  coming  ill."  Yet,  with  all  Naeisi's 
unbounded  love  for  her,  she  feared  to  put  it  to  the  strain 
of  calling  on  him  to  choose  between  exile  with  her  or  a 
return  to  Ireland  without  her.  For  it  was  clear  that  both 
he  and  Anli  and  Ardan  longed  in  their  hearts  for  one 
glimpse  .of  the  hills  of  Erinn.  However,  she  could  not 
conceal  the  terrible  dread  that  oppressed  her,  and  Naeisi, 
though  his  soul  yearned  for  home,  was  so  moved  by 
Deirdri's  forebodings,  that  he  replied  to  the  royal  mes- 
senger by  expressing  doubts  of  the  safety  promised  to 
him  if  he  returned. 

When  this  answer  reached  Ulster,  it  only  inflamed  the 
discontent  against  the  king,  and  the  nobles  agreed  that  it 
was  but  right  that  the  most  solemn  guarantees  and  ample 
sureties  should  be  given  to  the  sons  of  Usna  on  the  part 
of  the  king.  To  this  also  Conor  assented ;  and  he  gave 
Fergus  Mac  Roi,  Duthach  del  Ulad,  and  Cormac  Colingas 
as  guarantees  or  hostages  that  he  would  himself  act 
towards  the  sons  of  Usna  in  good  faith. 

The  royal  messenger  set  out  once  more,  accompanied 
by  Fiachy,  a  young  noble  of  Ulster,  son  of  Fergus  Mac 
Roi,  one  of  the  three  hostages ;  and  now  there  remained 
no  excuse  for  Naeisi  delaj'ing  to  return.  Deirdri  still  felt 
oppressed  by  the  mysterious  sense  of  dread  and  hidden 
danger;  but  (so  she  reflected)  as  Naeisi  and  his  devoted 
brothers  had  hitherto  uncomplainingly  sacrificed  every- 
thing for  her,  she  would  now  sacrifice  her  feelings  for 
their  sakes.  She  assented,  therefore  (though  Avith  secret 
sorrow  and  foreboding),  to  their  homeward  voj*age. 

Soon  the  galleys  laden  with  the  returning  exiles  reached 


20 


THE  STOEY  OF  IRELAND. 


the  Irish  shore.  On  landing,  they  found  a  Dalariadan 
legion  waiting  to  escort  them  to  Emania,  the  palace  of  the 
king ;  and  of  this  legion  the  young  Fiachy  was  the  com- 
mander. Before  completing  the  first  day's  march  some 
misgivings  seem  occasionally  to  have  flitted  across  the 
minds  of  the  brothers,  but  they  were  allayed  by  the  frank 
and  fearless,  brave  and  honourable  Fiachy,  who  told  them 
to  have  no  fear,  and  to  be  of  good  heart.  But  every 
spear's  length  they  drew  near  to  Emania,  Deirdri's  feel- 
ings became  more  and  more  insupportable,  and  so  over- 
powered was  she  with  the  forebodings  of  evil,  that  again 
the  cavalcade  halted,  and  again  the  brothers  would  have 
turned  back  but  for  the  persuasions  of  their  escort.  Next 
day,  towards  evening,  they  sighted  Emania.  "  O  Naeisi," 
cried  Deirdri,  view  the  cloud  that  I  here  see  in  the 
sky !  I  see  over  Eman  Green  a  chilling  cloud  of  blood- 
tinged  red."  But  Naeisi  tried  to  cheer  her  with  assur- 
ances of  safety  and  pictures  of  the  happy  days  that  were 
yet  before  them. 

Next  day  came  Durthacht,  chieftain  of  Fermae  (now 
Farney),  saying  that  he  came  from  the  king,  by  whose 
orders  the  charge  of  the  escort  should  now  be  given  to 
him.  But  Fiachy,  who  perhaps  at  this  stage  began  to 
have  misgivings  as  to  what  was  in  meditation,  answered, 
that  to  no  one  would  he  surrender  the  honourable  trust 
confided  to  him  on  the  stake  of  his  father's  life  and 
honour,  which  with  his  own  life  and  honour  he  would 
defend. 

And  here,  interrupting  the  summarized  text  of  the 
story,  I  may  state,  that  it  is  a  matter  of  doubt  whether 
the  king  was  really  a  party  to  the  treachery  which  ensued, 
or  whether  Durthacht  and  others  themselves  moved  in  the 
bloody  business  without  his  orders,  using  his  name  and 
calculating  that  what  they  proposed  to  do  would  secretly 
please  him,  would  be  readily  forgiven  or  approved,  and 


THE  STOEY  OF  IRELAND. 


21 


would  recommend  them  to  Conor's  favour.  Conor's  char- 
acter as  it  stands  on  the  page  of  authentic  history,  would 
forbid  the  idea  of  such  murderous  perfidy  on  his  part; 
but  all  the  versions  of  the  tale  allege  the  king's  guilt  to 
be  deep  and  plain. 

Fiachy  escorted  his  charge  to  a  palace  which  had  been 
assigned  for  theni  in  the  neighbourhood;  and,  much  to 
the  disconcerting  of  Durthacht  of  Fermae,  quartered  his 
legion  of  Dalariadans  as  guards  upon  the  building.  That 
night  neither  the  chivalrous  Fiachy  nor  the  children  of 
Usna  disguised  the  now  irresistible  and  mournful  convic- 
tion, that  foul  play  was  to  be  apprehended ;  but  Naeisi 
and  his  brothers  had  seen  enough  of  their  brave  young 
custodian  to  convince  them  that,  even  though  his  own 
father  should  come  at  the  palace  gate  to  bid  him  connive 
at  the  surrender  of  his  charge,  Fiachy  would  defend  them 
while  life  remained. 

Next  morning  the  effort  was  renewed  to  induce  Fiachy 
to  hand  over  the  charge  of  the  returned  exiles.  He  was 
immovable.  "  What  interest  is  it  of  yours  to  obstruct  the 
king's  orders  ?  "  said  Durthacht  of  Fermae  ;  can  you  not 
turn  over  your  responsibility  to  us,  and  in  peace  and  safety 
go  your  way  ?  "  —  "  It  is  of  the  last  interest  to  me,"  replied 
Fiachy,  "  to  see  that  the  sons  of  Usna  have  not  trusted  in 
vain  on  the  word  of  the  king,  on  the  hostage  of  my  father, 
or  on  the  honour  of  my  father's  son."  Then  all  chance 
of  prevailing  on  Fiachy  being  over,  Durthacht  gave  the 
signal  for  assault,  and  the  palace  was  stormed  on  all 
sides. 

Then  spoke  Naeisi,  touched  to  the  heart  by  the  devotion 
and  fidelity  of  Fiachy :  Why  should  you  perish  defend- 
ing us?  We  have  seen  all.  Your  honour  is  safe,  noblest 
of  youths.  We  will  not  have  you  sacrificed  vainly  resist- 
ing the  fate  that  for  us  now  is  clearly  inevitable.  We  will 
meet  death  calmly,  we  will  surrender  ourselves,  and  spare 


22 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


needless  slaughter."  But  Fiachy  would  not  have  it  so, 
and  all  the  entreaties  of  the  sons  of  Usna  could  not  pre- 
vail upon  him  to  assAit.  "  I  am  here,"  said  he,  the 
representative  of  my  father's  hostage,  of  the  honour  of 
Ulster,  and  the  word  of  the  king.  To  these  and  on  me 
you  trusted.  While  you  were  safe  you  would  have  turned 
back,  but  for  me.  Now,  they  who  would  harm  you  must 
pass  over  the  lifeless  corpse  of  Fiachy." 

Then  they  asked  that  thej^  might  at  least  go  forth  on 
the  ramparts  and  take  part  in  the  defence  of  the  palace ; 
but  Fiachy  pointed  out  that  by  the  etiquette  of  knightly 
honour  in  Ulidia,  this  would  be  infringing  on  his  sacred 
charge.  He  was  the  pledge  for  their  safety,  and  he  alone 
should  look  to  it.  They  must,  under  no  cii'cumstances, 
run  even  the  slightest  peril  of  a  spear-wound,  unless  he 
should  first  fall,  Avhen  by  the  laws  of  honour,  his  trust 
would  haA^e  been  acquitted,  but  not  otherwise.  So  ran 
the  code  of  chivalry  amongst  the  warriors  of  Dalariada. 

Then  Naeisi  and  his  brothers  and  Deirdri  withdrew  into 
the  palace,  and  no  more,  even  by  a  glance,  gave  sign  of  any 
interest  or  thought  whatsoever  about  their  fate  ;  whether 
it  was  near  or  far,  brightening  or  darkening ;  "  but  Naeisi 
and  Deirdri  sat  down  at  a  chess-board  and  played  at  the 
game." 

Meanwhile,  not  all  the  thunders  of  the  heavens  could 
equal  the  resounding  din  of  the  clanging  of  shields,  the 
clash  of  swords  and  spears,  the  cries  of  the  wounded,  and 
the  shouts  of  tlie  combatants  outside.  The  assailants  were 
twenty  to  one ;  but  the  faithful  Fiachy  and  his  Dalaria- 
dans  performed  prodigies  of  valour,  and  at  noon  they  still 
held  the  outer  ramparts  of  all.  By  the  assailants  nothing 
had  yet  been  won. 

An  attendant  rushed  with  word  to  Naeisi.  He  raised 
not  his  eyes  from  the  board,  but  continued  the  game. 

But  now  the  attacking  party,  having  secured  reinforce- 


TEE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


23 


ments,  returned  to  the  charge  with  increased  desperation. 
For  an  hour  there  was  no  pause  in  the  frightful  fury  of 
the  struggle. 

At  length  the  first  rampart  was  won. 

A  wounded  guard  rushed  in  with  the  dark  news  to 
Naeisi,  who  "  moved  a  piece  on  the  board,  but  never  raised 
his  eyes." 

The  story  in  this  way  goes  on  to  describe  how,  as  each 
fosse  surrounding  the  palace  was  lost  and  won,  and  as  the 
din  and  carnage  of  the  strife  drew  nearer  and  nearer  to 
the  doomed  guests  inside,  each  report  from  the  scene  of 
slaughter,  whether  of  good  or  evil  report,  failed  alike  to 
elicit  the  slightest  motion  of  concern  or  interest  one  way 
or  another  from  the  brothers  or  from  Deirdri.  In  all  the 
relics  we  possess  of  the  old  poems  or  bardic  stories  of 
those  pagan  times,  there  is  nothing  finer  than  the  climax 
of  the  tragedy  which  the  semi-imaginative  story  I  have  been 
epitomising  here  proceeds  to  reach.  The  deafening  clang- 
our and  bloody  strife  outside,  drawing  nearer  and  nearer, 
the  supreme  equanimity  of  the  noble  victims  inside,  too 
proud  to  evince  the  slightest  emotion,  is  most  powerfully 
and  dramatically  antithesised ;  the  story  culminating  in  the 
final  act  of  the  traged}^,  when  the  faithful  Fiachy  and  the 
last  of  his  guards  having  been  slain,  the  Sons  of  Usna 
met  their  fate  with  a  dignity  that  befitted  three  such  noble 
champions  of  Ulster. 

When  Fergus  and  Duthach  heard  of  the  foul  murder  of 
the  sons  of  Usna,  in  violation  of  the  pledge  for  which  they 
themselves  were  sureties,  they  marched  upon  Emania,  and, 
in  a  desperate  encounter  with  Conor's  forces,  in  which  the 
king's  son  was  slain  and  his  palace  burned  to  the  ground, 
thej  inaugurated  a  desolating  war  that  lasted  in  Ulster  for 
many  a  year,  and  amply  fulfilled  the  dark  prophecy  of 
Kavaiee  the  Druid  in  the  hour  of  Deirdri's  birth. 

Deirdii,  we  are  told,  "  never  smiled "  from  the  day  of 


24 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


the  slaughter  of  her  husband  on  Eman  Green.  In  vain 
the  king  lavished  kindness  and  favours  upon  her.  In 
vain  he  exhausted  every  resource  in  the  endeavour  to 
cheer,  amuse,  or  interest  her.  One  day,  after  more  than  a 
year  had  been  passed  by  Deirdri  in  this  settled  but  placid 
despair  and  melancholy,  Conor  took  her  in  his  own  chariot 
to  drive  into  the  country.  He  attempted  to  jest  her  sar- 
castically about  her  continued  grieving  for  Naeisi,  when 
suddenly  she  sprang  out  of  the  chariot,  then  flying  at 
the  full  speed  of  the  steeds,  and  falling  head  foremost 
against  a  sharp  rock  on  the  road  side,  was  killed  upon  the 
spot. 

Well  known  to  most  Irish  readers,  young  and  old,  is 
Moore's  beautiful  and  passionate  "  Lament  for  the  Children 
of  Usna:"  — 

"  Avenging  and  bright  fall  the  swift  sword  of  Erin 
On  him  who  the  brave  sons  of  Usna  betrayed !  — 
For  every  fond  eye  he  hath  waken'd  a  tear  in, 

A  drop  from  his  heart- wounds  shall  weep  o'er  her  blade ! 

"  By  the  red  cloud  that  hung  over  Conor's  dark  dwelling, 
When  Ulad's  three  champions  lay  sleeping  in  gore  — 
By  the  billows  of  war,  which  so  often,  high  swelling, 
Have  wafted  these  heroes  to  victory's  shore  — 

"  We  swear  to  revenge  them  !  —  No  joy  shall  be  tasted, 
The  harp  shall  be  silent,  the  maiden  unwed. 
Our  halls  shall  be  mute,  and  our  fields  shall  lie  wasted, 
Till  vengeance  is  wreak'd  on  the  murderer's  head ! 

"  Yes,  monarch,  tho'  sweet  are  our  home  recollections ; 
Though  sweet  are  the  tears  that  from  tenderness  fall ; 
Though  sweet  are  our  friendships,  our  hopes,  our  affections, 
Revenge  on  a  tyrant  is  sweetest  of  all !  " 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


25 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  DEATH  OF  KING  CONOR  MAC  NESSA. 

HAVE  alluded  to  doubts  suggested  in  my  mind 
by  the  facts  of  authentic  history,  as  to  whether 
King  Conor  Mac  Nessa  was  likely  to  have  played 
the  foul  part  attributed  to  him  in  this  celebrated 
bardic  story,  and  for  which,  certainly,  the  sureties  "  Fer- 
gus, Duthach,  and  Cormac,  held  him  to  a  terrible  account. 
All  that  can  be  said  is,  that  no  other  incident  recorded  of 
him  would  warrant  such  an  estimate  of  his  character; 
and  it  is  certain  he  was  a  man  of  many  brave  and  noble 
parts.  He  met  his  death  under  truly  singular  circum- 
stances. The  ancient  bardic  version  of  the  event  is 
almost  literally  given  in  the  following  poem,  by  Mr.  T. 
D.  Sullivan :  — 

DEATH  OF  KING  CONOR  MAC  NESSA. 


'T  was  a  day  full  of  sorrow  for  Ulster  when  Conor  Mac  Nessa  went 
forth 

To  punish  the  clansmen  of  Connaught  who  dared  to  take  spoil  from 
the  North ; 

For  his  men  brought  him  back  from  the  battle  scarce  better  than  one 
that  was  dead, 

With  the  brain-ball  of  Mesgedra  ^  buried  two-thirds  of  its  depth  in 
his  head. 


1  The  pagan  Irish  warriors  sometimes  took  the  brains  out  of  champions 
whom  they  had  slain  in  single  combat,  mixed  them  up  with  lime,  and 
rolled  them  into  balls,  which  hardened  with  time,  and  which  they  pre- 
served as  trophies.  It  was  with  one  of  these  balls,  which  had  been  ab- 
stracted from  his  armoury,  that  Conor  Mac  Nessa  was  wounded,  as 
described  in  the  text. 


26 


THE  STORY  OF  IBELAND. 


His  royal  physician  bent  o'er  him,  great  Fingen,  who  often  before 
Staunched  the  war-battered  bodies  of  heroes,  and  built  them  for  bat- 
tle once  more, 

And  he  looked  on  the  wound  of  the  monarch,  and  heark'd  to  his 
low-breathed  sighs, 

And  he  said,  "  In  the  day  when  that  missile  is  loosed  from  his  fore- 
head, he  dies. 

II. 

"Yet  long  midst  the  people  who  love  him  King  Conor  Mac  Nessa 
may  reign, 

If  always  the  high  pulse  of  passion  be  kept  from  his  heart  and  his 
brain  ; 

And  for  this  I  lay  down  his  restrictions :  —  no  more  from  this  day 
shall  his  place 

Be  with  armies,  in  battles,  or  hostings,  or  leading  the  van  of  the 
chase ; 

At  night,  when  the  banquet  is  flashing,  his  measure  of  wine  must 
be  small, 

And  take  heed  that  the  bright  eyes  of  woman  be  kept  from  his  sight 
above  all ; 

For  if  heart-thrilling  joyance  or  anger  awhile  o'er  his  being  have 
power. 

The  ball  will  start  forth  from  his  forehead,  and  surely  he  dies  in  that 
houi\" 

III. 

Oh !  woe  for  the  valiant  King  Conor,  struck  down  from  the  summit 
of  life, 

While  glory  unclouded  shone  round  him,  and  regal  enjoyment  was 
rife  — 

Shut  out  from  his  toils  and  his  duties,  condemned  to  ignoble  repose, 
Xo  longer  to  friends  a  true  helper,  no  longer  a  scourge  to  his  foes ! 
He,  the  strong-handed  smiter  of  champions,  the  piercer  of  armour 
and  shields, 

The  foremost  in  earth-shaking  onsets,  the  last  out  of  blood-sodden 
fields  — 

The  mildest,  the  kindest,  the  gayest,  when  revels  ran  high  in  his 
hall  — 

Oh,  well  might  his  true-hearted  people  feel  gloomy  and  sad  for  his 
falll 


THE  STORY  OF  IE  ELAND. 


27 


IV. 

The  princes,  the  chieftains,  the  nobles,  \vho  met  to  consult  at  his 
board, 

Whispered  low  when  their  talk  was  of  combats,  and  wielding  the 

.    spear  and  the  sword  : 
The  bards  from  their  harps  feared  to  waken  the  full-pealing  sweet- 
ness of  song. 

To  give  homage  to  valour  or  beauty,  or  praise  to  the  wise  and  the 
strong ; 

The  flash  of  no  joy-giving  story  made  cheers  or  gay  laughter  resound, 
Amidst  silence  constrained  and  unwonted  the  seldom-filled  wine-cup 
went  round ; 

And,  sadder  to  all  who  remembered  the  glories  and  joys  that  had 
been, 

The  heart-swaying  presence  of  woman  not  once  shed  its  light  on  the 
scene. 

V. 

He  knew  it,  he  felt  it,  and  sorrow  sunk  daily  more  deep  in  his  heart; 
He  wearied  of  doleful  inaction,  from  all  his  loved  labours  apart. 
He  sat  at  his  door  in  the  sunlight,  sore  grieving  and  weeping  to  see 
The  life  and  the  motion  around  him,  and  nothing  so  stricken  as  he. 
Above  him  the  eagle  went  wheeling,  before  him  the  deer  galloped  by, 
And  the  quick-legged  rabbits  went  skipping  from  green  glades  and 
burrows  a-nigh. 

The  song-birds  sang  out  from  the  copses,  the  bees  passed  on  musical 
wing, 

And  aU  things  were  happy  and  busy,  save  Conor  Mac  Xessa  the  king  I 

VI. 

So  years  had  passed  over,  when,  sitting  midst  silence  like  that  of 
the  tomb, 

A  terror  crept  through  him  as  sudden  the  noonlight  wa§  blackened 
with  gloom. 

One  red  flare  of  lightning  blazed  brightly,  illuming  the  landscape 
around. 

One  thunder-peal  roared  through  the  mountains,  and  rumbled  and 

crashed  underground ; 
He  heard  the  rocks  bursting  asunder,  the  trees  tearing  up  by  the 

roots, 

And  loud  through  the  horrid  confusion  the  howling  of  terrified 
brutes. 


28 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


From  the  halls  of  his  tottering  palace  came  screamings  of  terror  and 
pain, 

And  he  saw  crowding  thickly  around  him  the  ghosts  of  the  foes  he 
had  slain ! 


VII. 

And  as  soon  as  the  sudden  commotion  that  shuddered  through  nature 

had  ceased, 

The  king  sent  for  Barach,  his  Druid,  and  said:  "Tell  me  truly,  O 
priest, 

What  magical  arts  have  created  this  scene  of  wild  horror  and  dread  ? 
What  has  blotted  the  blue  sky  above  us,  and  shaken  the  earth  that 
we  tread  ? 

Are  the  gods  that  we  worship  offended  ?  what  crime  or  what  wrong 
has  been  done  ? 

Has  the  fault  been  committed  in  Erin,  and  how  may  their  favour  be 
won? 

W^hat  rites  may  avail  to  appease  them?  what  gifts  on  their  altars 
should  smoke  ? 

Only  say,  and  the  offering  demanded  we  lay  by  your  consecrate 
oak." 


"  O  king,"  said  the  white-bearded  Druid,  "  the  truth  unto  me  has  been 
shown. 

There  lives  but  one  God,  the  Eternal ;  far  up  in  high  Heaven  is  His 
throne. 

He  looked  upon  men  with  compassion,  and  sent  from  His  kingdom  of 
light 

His  Son,  in  the  shape  of  a  mortal,  to  teach  them  and  guide  them 
aright. 

Near  the  time  of  your  birth,  O  King  Conor,  the  Saviour  of  mankind 
was  born. 

And  since  then  in  the  kingdoms  far  eastward  He  taught,  toiled,  and 

prayed,  till  this  morn. 
When  wicked  men  seized  Him,  fast  bound  Him  with  nails  to  a  cross, 

lanced  His  side, 

And  that  moment  of  gloom  and  confusion  was  earth's  cry  of  dread 
when  He  died. 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


29 


IX. 

"  O  king,  He  was  gracious  and  gentle,  His  heart  was  all  pity  and  love, 
And  for  men  He  was  ever  beseeching  the  grace  of  His  Father  above ; 
He  helped  them.  He  healed  them.  He  blessed  them,  He  laboured  that 
all  might  attain 

To  the  true  God's  high  kingdom  of  glory,  where  never  comes  sorrow 
or  pain ; 

But  they  rose  in  their  pride  and  their  folly,  their  hearts  filled  with 
merciless  rage. 

That  only  the  sight  of  His  life-blood  fast  poured  from  His  heart  could 
assuage : 

Yet  while  on  the  cross-beams  uplifted,  His  body  racked,  tortured,  and 
riven. 

He  prayed  —  not  for  justice  or  vengeance,  but  asked  that  His  foes  be 
forgiven." 

X. 

With  a  bound  from  his  seat  rose  King  Conor,  the  red  flush  of  rage  on 
his  face. 

Fast  he  ran  through  the  hall  for  his  weapons,  and  snatching  his  sword 
from  its  place. 

He  rushed  to  the  woods,  striking  wildly  at  boughs  that  dropped  down 
with  each  blow. 

And  he  cried:  "Were  I  midst  the  vile  rabble,  I'd  cleave  them  to 
earth  even  so ! 

With  the  strokes  of  a  high  king  of  Erinn,  the  whirls  of  my  keen- 
tempered  sword, 

I  would  save  from  their  horrible  fury  that  mild  and  that  merciful 
Lord." 

His  frame  shook  and  heaved  with  emotion ;  the  brain-ball  leaped 

forth  from  his  head. 
And  commending  his  soul  to  that  Saviour,  King  Conor  Mac  Xessa 

fell  dead. 


30 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  "  GOLDEN  AGE  "    OF  PRE-CHRISTIAN  ERINN. 

S  early  as  the  reign  of  Ard-Ri  Cormac  the  First 
—  the  first  years  of  the  third  century  —  the 
Christian  faith  had  penetrated  into  Ireland. 
Probably  in  the  commercial  intercourse  between 
the  Irish  and  continental  ports,  some  Christian  converts 
had  been  made  amongst  the  Irish  navigators  or  mer- 
chants. Some  historians  think  the  monarch  himself,  Cor- 
mac, towards  the  close  of  his  life  adored  the  true  God,  and 
attempted  to  put  down  druidism.  "  His  reign,"  says  Mr. 
Haverty  the  historian,  '^is  generally  looked  \\])on  as  the 
brightest  epoch  in  the  entire  history  of  pagan  Ireland.  He 
established  three  colleges ;  one  for  War,  one  for  History, 
and  the  third  for  Jurisprudence.  He  collected  and  remod- 
elled the  laws,  and  published  the  code  which  remained  in 
force  until  the  English  invasion  (a  period  extending  be- 
yond nine  hundred  years)^  and  outside  the  English  Pale 
for  many  centuries  after  !  He  assembled  the  bards  and 
chroniclers  at  Tara,  and  directed  them  to  collect  the 
annals  of  Ireland,  and  to  write  out  the  records  of  the 
country  from  year  to  year,  making  them  synchronize  with 
the  history  of  other  countries,  by  collating  events  with  the 
reigns  of  contemporary  foreign  potentates ;  Cormac  him- 
self having  been  the  inventor  of  this  kind  of  chronology. 
These  annals  formed  what  is  called  the  '  Psalter  of  Tara,' 
which  also  contained  full  details  of  the  boundaries  of 
provinces,  districts,  and  small  divisions  of  land  throughout 
Ireland  ;  but  unfortunately  this  great  record  has  been  lost, 
no  vestige  of  it  being  now,  it  is  believed,  in  existence. 
The  magnificence  of  Cormac's  palace  at  Tara  was  com- 


THE  STOBY  OF  IHELAND, 


31 


inensurate  with  the  greatness  of  his  power  and  the  bril- 
liancy of  his  actions ;  and  he  fitted  out  a  fleet  which  he 
sent  to  harass  the  shores  of  Alba  or  Scotland,  until  that 
country  also  was  compelled  to  acknowledge  him  as  sov- 
ereign. He  wrote  a  book  or  tract  called  Teaguscna-Ri^  or 
the  Institutions  of  a  Prince,'  which  is  still  in  existence, 
and  which  contains  admirable  maxims  on  manners,  morals, 
and  government."  This  illustrious  sovereign  died  A.D. 
266,  at  Cleitach,  on  the  Boyne,  a  salmon  bone,  it  is  said, 
having  fastened  in  his  throat  whila  dining,  and  defied  all 
efforts  at  extrication.  He  was  buried  at  Ross-na-ri,  the 
first  of  the  pagan  monarchs  for  many  generations  who 
was  not  interred  at  Brugh,  the  famous  burial  place  of  the 
pre-Christian  kings.  A  vivid  tradition  relating  the  cir- 
cumstances of  his  burial  has  been  very  beautifully  versi- 
fied by  Dr.  Ferguson  in  his  poem,  "  The  Burial  of  King 
Cormac : " 

"  *  Crom  Cruach  and  his  sub-gods  twelve,' 

Said  Cormac,  *  are  but  crave n--treene ; 
The  axe  that  made  them,  haft  or  helve. 

Had  worthier  of  our  worship  been : 

"  *  But  He  who  made  the  tree  to  grow, 
And  hid  in  earth  the  iron-stone. 
And  made  the  man  with  mind  to  know 
The  axe's  use,  is  God  alone/'' 

The  Druids  hear  of  this  fearful  speech,  and  are  horri- 
fied:— 

"  Anon  to  priests  of  Crom  was  brought 
(Where  girded  in  their  service  dread 
They  ministered  on  red  M037  Slaught)  — 
Word  of  the  words  King  Cormac  said. 

"  They  loosed  their  curse  against  the  king, 
They  cursed  him  in  his  flesh  and  bones. 
And  daily  in  their  mystic  ring 

They  turned  the  maledictive  stones." 


32 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


At  length  one  day  comes  the  news  to  them  that  the 
king  is  dead,  "  choked  upon  the  food  he  ate,"  and  they 
exultantly  sound  "  the  praise  of  their  avenging  god." 
Cormac,  before  he  dies,  however,  leaves  as  his  last  behest, 
a  direction  that  he  shall  not  be  interred  in  the  old  pagan 
cemetery  x)i  the  kings  at  Brugh,  but  at  Ross-na-ri:  — 

"  But  ere  the  voice  was  wholly  spent 

That  priest  and  prince  should  still  obey, 
To  awed  attendants  o'er  him  bent 
Great  Cormac  gathered  breath  to  say  : 

"  *  Spread  not  the  beds  of  Brugh  for  me, 
When  restless  death-bed's  use  is  done ; 
But  bury  me  at  Ross-na-ree, 
And  face  me  to  the  rising  sun. 

"  *  For  all  the  kings  who  lie  in  Brugh 
Put  trust  in  gods  of  wood  and  stone ; 
And 't  was  at  Ross  that  first  I  knew 
One  Unseen,  who  is  God  alone, 

"  *  His  glory  lightens  from  the  east, 

His  message  soon  shall  reach  our  shore, 
And  idol-god  and  cursing  priest 

Shall  plague  us  from  Moy  Slaught  no  more.* " 

King  Cormac  dies,  and  his  people  one  and  all  are 
shocked  at  the  idea  of  burying  him  anywhere  save  in 
the  ancient  pagan  cemetery  where  all  his  great  forefathers 
repose.  They  agree  that  he  must  have  been  raving  when 
he  desired  otherwise  ;  and  they  decide  to  bury  him  in 
Brugh,  where  his  grandsire,  Conn  of  the  Hundred  Battles, 
lies  armour-clad,  upright,  hound  at  foot  and  spear  in 
hand : — 

"  Dead  Cormac  on  his  bier  they  laid : 

*  He  reigned  a  king  for  forty  years ; 
And  shame  it  were,'  his  captains  said, 

*  He  lay  not  with  his  royal  peers : 


THE  sro/.T  OF  IRE  LA. Ml. 


83 


"  '  His  grandsire,  liuiidj-ed  Battles,  sleeps 
Serene  in  Brugh,  and  all  around 
Dead  kings,  in  stone  sepulchral  keeps, 
Protect  the  sacred  burial  ground. 

"  *  What  though  a  d^dng  man  should  rave 
Of  changes  o'er  the  eastern  sea. 
In  Brugh  of  Boyne  shall  be  his  grave, 
And  not  in  noteless  Ross-na-ree.' 

"  Then  northward  forth  they  bore  the  bier, 
And  down  from  Sleithac's  side  they  drew 
With  horseman  and  with  charioteer, 
To  cross  the  fords  of  Boyne  to  Brugh." 

Suddenly  ''a  breath  of  finer  air"  touclies  tlie  river 
"  with  rustling  wings." 

And  as  the  burial  train  came  down 

With  dirge,  and  savage  dolorous  shows, 

Across  their  pathw^ay  broad  and  brown. 
The  deep  full-hearted  river  rose. 

"  From  bank  to  bank  through  all  his  fords, 

'Xeath  blackening  squalls  he  sw^elled  and  boiled, 
And  thrice  the  wond'ring  gentile  lords 
Essayed  to  cross,  and  thrice  recoil'd. 

"  Then  forth  stepped  gray-haired  warriors  four ; 
They  said  :  '  Through  angrier  floods  than  these, 
On  link'd  shield  once  our  King  we  bore 
From  Dread-spear  and  the  hosts  of  Deece ; 

" '  And  long  as  loyal  will  holds  good, 

And  limbs  respond  with  helpful  thews, 
Nor  flood  nor  fiend  within  the  flood 
Shall  bar  him  of  his  burial  dues.'  " 

So  they  lift  the  bier,  and  step  into  tlie  boiling  surge. 

*'  And  now  they  slide  and  now  they  swim, 
And  now  amid  the  blackening  squall, 
Gray  locks  afloat  with  clutchings  grim, 
Thty  pluno^e  around  the  floating  pall. 


34 


THE  sTonr  OF  inELAxn, 


"  While  as  a  youth  with  practised  spear 

Through  justling  crowds  bears  off  the  ring  — 
Boyne  from  their  shoulders  caught  the  bier, 
And  proudly  l^are  away  the  King  I  " 

The  foaming  torrent  sweeps  the  coffin  away  ;  next  day- 
it  is  found  far  down  the  river,  stranded  on  the  bank  under 
Ross-na-ri ;  the  last  behest  of  Cormac  is  fulfilled  after  all  I 

"  At  morning  on  the  grassy  marge 

Of  Ross-na-ree  the  corpse  was  found, 
And  shepherds  at  their  early  charge, 
Entombed  it  in  the  peaceful  ground. 


And  life  and  time  rejoicing  run 

From  age  to  age  their  wonted  way ; 
But  still  he  waits  the  risen  Sun, 

For  still 't  is  only  daw^ning  Day." 

In  the  two  centuries  succeeding,  there  flourished  amongst 
other  sovereigns  of  Ireland  less  known  to  fame,  the  cele- 
brated Nial  of  the  Nine  Hostages,  and  King  Dahi.^  Dur- 
ing these  two  hundred  years  the  flag  of  Ireland  waved 
through  continental  Europe  over  victorious  legions  and 
fleets ;  the  Irish  monarchs  leading  powerful  armies  across 
the  plains  of  Gaul,  and  up  to  the  very  confines  of  "the 
Ceasars'  domains  in  Italy.  It  was  the  day  of  Ireland's 
military  power  in  Europe ;  a  day  which  subsequently 
waned  so  disastrously^  and,  later  on,  set  in  utter  gloom. 
Neighbouring  Britain,  whose  yoke  a  thousand  years  sub- 
sequently Ireland  was  to  wear,  then  lay  helpless  and 
abject  at  the  mercy  of  the  Irish  hosts;  the  Britons,  as 
history  relates,  absolutely  weeping  and  wailing  at  the  de- 
parture of  the  enslaving  Roman  legions,  because  now  there 
would  be  nought  to  stay  the  visits  of  the  Scoti,  or  Irish, 
and  the  Picts  I    The  courts  of  the  Irish  princes  and  homes 


1  This  was  a  soubriquet.   His  real  name  was  Feredach  the  Second. 


THE  >TORT  OF  IB  EL  AS  D. 


of  the  Irish  nobility  were  filled  with  white  slave  attend- 
ants, brouglit  from  abroad,  some  from  Gaul,  but  the  most 
from  Anglia.  It  was  in  this  way  the  youthful  Patricius, 
or  Patrick,  was  brought  a  slave  into  Ireland  from  Gaul. 
As  the  power  of  Imperial  Rome  began  to  pale,  and  the 
outlying  legions  were  being  every  year  drawn  in  nearer  and 
nearer  to  the  great  city  itself,  the  Irish  sunburst  blazed 
over  the  scene,  and  the  retreating  Romans  found  the 
cohorts  of  Erinn  pushing  dauntlessly  and  vengefully  on 
their  track.  Although  the  Irish  chronicles  of  the  period 
themselves  say  little  of  the  deeds  of  the  armies  abroad,  the 
continental  records  of  the  time  give  us  pretty  full  insight 
into  the  part  they  played  on  the  European  stage  in  that 
day.^  Xial  of  the  Xine  Hostages  met  his  death  in  Gaul, 
on  the  banks  of  the  Loire,  while  leading  his  armies  in 
one  of  those  campaigns.  The  death  of  King  Dahi,  who 
was  killed  by  lightning  at  the  foot  of  the  Alps  while 
marching  at  the  head  of  his  legions,  one  of  our  national 
poets,  Davis,  has  immortalized  in  a  poem,  from  which  I 
quote  here :  — 

"  Darkly  their  glibs  o'erhang, 

Sharp  is  their  wolf-dog's  fang, 

Bronze  spear  and  falchion  clang  — 
Brave  men  might  shun  them  ! 

Heavy  the  spoil  they  bear  — 

Jewels  and  gold  are  there  — 

Hostage  and  maiden  fair  — 
How  have  they  won  them  ? 

1  Haverty  the  historian  says:  "It  is  in  the  verses  of  the  Latin  ix>et 
Claudian  that  we  read  of  the  sending  of  troops  by  Stilichio,  the  general  of 
Theodosius  the  Great,  to  repel  the  Scottish  hosts  led  by  the  brave  and  ad- 
venturous Nial.  One  of  the  passages  of  Claudian  thus  referred  to  is  that 
in  which  the  poet  says:  — 

"  '  Totam  cum  Scot  us  lernem 
Jfovit,  et  infesto  spumamt  remige  Tethys* 

That  is,  as  translated  in  Gibson's  Camden:  — 

'  When  Scots  came  thundering  from  the  Irish  shore* 
The  ocean  trembled,  struck  with  hostile  oars.'  " 


THE  STORY  OF  IBELAND, 


From  the  soft  sons  of  Gaul, 
Roman,  and  Frank,  and  thrall. 
Borough,  and  hut,  and  hall, — 

These  have  been  torn. 
Over  Britannia  wide. 
Over  fair  Gaul  they  hied, 
Often  in  battle  tried,  — 

Enemies  mourn ! 


Up  on  the  glacier's  snow, 
Down  on  the  vales  below, 
Monarch  and  clansmen  go  — 

Bright  is  the  morning. 
Never  their  march  they  slack, 
Jura  is  at  their  back, 
When  falls  the  evening  black, 

Hideous,  and  warning. 

"  Eagles  scream  loud  on  high  ; 
Far  off  the  chamois  fly ; 
Hoarse  comes  the  torrent's  cry, 

On  the  rocks  whitening. 
Strong  are  the  storm's  wings ; 
Down  the  tall  pine  it  flings ; 
Hail-stone  and  sleet  it  brings  — 

Thunder  and  lightning. 

Little  these  veterans  mind 
Thundering,  hail,  or  wind  ; 
Closer  their  ranks  they  bind  — 

Matching  the  storm. 
While,  a  spear-cast  or  more, 
On,  the  first  ranks  before, 
Dathi  the  sunburst  bore  — 

Haughty  his  form. 

"Forth  from  the  thunder-cloud 
Leaps  out  a  foe  as  proud  — 
Sudden  the  monarch  bowed  — 
On  rush  the  vang^uard  ;  ' 


THE  STORY  OF  IB  EL  AND. 


Wildly  the  king  they  raise  — 
Struck  by  the  lightning's  blaze  — 
Ghastly  his  dying  gaze, 

Clutching  his  standard ! 


"  Mild  is  the  morning  beam, 
Gently  the  rivers  stream, 
Happy  the  valleys  seem  ; 

But  the  lone  islanders  — 
Mark  how  they  guard  their  king  I 
Hark,  to  the  wail  they  sing ! 
Dark  is  their  counselling  — 
Helvetia's  highlanders 

Gather  like  ravens,  near  — 
Shall  Dathi's  soldiers  fear? 
Soon  their  home-path  they  clear  — 

Rapid  and  daring ; 
On  through  the  pass  and  plain, 
Until  the  shore  they  gain, 
And,  with  their  spoil,  again 

Landed  in  Eirinn. 

"  Little  does  Eire  care 
For  gold  or  maiden  fair  — 
"  Where  is  King  Dathi  ?  —  where, 

Where  is  my  bravest  ?  " 
On  the  rich  deck  he  lies. 
O'er  him  his  sunburst  flies. 
Solemn  the  obsequies,  . 

Eire  !  thou  gavest. 

*^  See  ye  that  countless  train 
Crossing  Ros-Comain's  plain, 
Crying,  like  hurricane, 

Uile  liu  aif 
Broad  is  his  cairn'' s  base  — 
Nigh  the /^King's  burial  place," 
Lait  of  the  Pagan  race, 
Li«tb  King  Datki  !  " 


38 


THE  .STOHr  OF  IHELAND. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

HOW  IKELAND  RECEIVED  THE  CHRISTIAN  FAITH. 

<^^^^9t^^0  these  foreign  expeditions  Ireland  was  destined 
to  be  indebted  for  her  own  conquest  by  the  spirit 
of  Christianity.  As  I  have  already  mentioned, 
in  one  of  the  military  excursions  of  King  Nial 
the  First  into  Gaul,  he  captured  and  brought  to  Ireland 
amongst  other  white  slaves,  Patricius,  a  Romano-Gallic 
youth  of  good  quality,  and  his  sisters  Darerca  and  Lupita. 
The  story  of  St.  Patrick's  bondage  in  Ireland,  of  his  miracu- 
lous escape,  his  entry  into  holy  orders,  his  vision  of  Ireland 
—  in  which  he  thought  he  heard  the  cries  of  a  multitude 
of  people,  entreating  him  to  come  to  them  in  Erinn  —  his 
long  studies  under  St.  Germain,  and  eventually  his  deter- 
mination to  undertake  in  an  especial  manner  the  conver- 
sion of  the  Irish,  will  all  be  found  in  any  Irish  Church 
History  or  Life  of  St.  Patrick.^  Having  received  the 
sanction  and  benediction  of  the  holy  pontiff  Pope  Celestine, 
and  having  been  consecrated  bishop,  St.  Patrick,  accom- 
panied by  a  few  chosen  priests,  reached  Ireland  in  432. 
Christianity  had  been  preached  in  Ireland  long  before  St. 
Patrick's  time.  In  431  St.  Palladius,  Archdeacon  of  Rome, 
was  sent  by  Pope  Celestine  as  a  bishop  to  the  Christians 
in  Ireland.  These,  however,  were  evidently  but  few  in 
number,  and  worshipped  only  in  fear  or  secrecy.  The 
attempt  to  preach  the  faith  openly  to  the  people  was  vio- 

1  My  5'oung  readers  will  find  this  glorious  chapter  iu  our  religious  an- 
nals, related  with  great  simplicitj^,  beauty,  and  truth,  in  a  little  publication 
called,  "St.  Patrick's:  how  it  was  restored,"  by  the  Rev.  James  Gaffney, 
of  the  diocese  of  Dublin,  whose  admirable  volume  on  "  The  Ancient  Irish 
Church,"  as  well  as  the  Rev.  S.  Malone's  "  Church  History  of  Ireland," 
will  be  found  invaluable  to  students. 


THE  .ri  OUY  OF  IBELAND. 


39 


lently  suppressed,  and  St.  Palladius  sailed  from  Ireland. 
St.  Patrick  and  his  missioners  landed  on  the  spot  where 
now  stands  the  fashionable  watering  place  called  Bray, 
near  Dublin.  The  hostility  of  the  Lagenian  prince  and 
people  compelled  him  to  reembark.  He  sailed  northwards, 
touching  at  Innis-Patrick  near  Skerries,  county  Dublin, 
and  eventually  landed  at  Magh  Innis,  in  Strangford 
Lough. 

Druidism  would  appear  to  have  been  the  form  of  pagan- 
ism then  prevailing  in  Ireland,  though  even  then  some 
traces  remained  of  a  still  more  ancient  idol-worship,  prob- 
ably dating  from  the  time  of  the  Tuatha  de  Danaans,  two 
thousand  years  before.  St.  Patrick,  however,  found  the 
Irish  mind  much  better  prepared,  by  its  comparative  civ- 
ilization and  refinement,  to  receive  the  trutlis  of  Christi- 
anity, than  that  of  any  other  nation  in  Europe  outside 
imperial  Rome.  The  Irish  were  always  —  then  as  they 
are  now  —  preeminently  a  reverential  people,  and  thus 
were  peculiarly  susceptible  of  religious  truth.  St.  Pat- 
rick's progress  through  the  island  was  marked  by  success 
from  the  outset.  Tradition  states  that,  expounding  the 
doctrine  of  the  Holy  Trinity,  he  used  a  little  sprig  of  tre- 
foil, or  three-leaved  grass,  whence  the  Shamrock  comes  to 
be  the  National  Emblem,  as  St.  Patrick  is  the  National 
Saint  or  Patron  of  Ireland. 

Ard-Ri  Laori  ^  was  holding  a  druidical  festival  in  Tara, 
at  which  the  kindling  of  a  great  fire  formed  a  chief  fea- 
ture of  the  proceedings,  and  it  was  a  crime  punishable 
with  death  for  any  one  to  light  a  fire  in  the  surrounding- 
country  on  the  evening  of  that  festival,  until  the  sacred 
flame  on  Tara  Hill  blazed  forth.  To  his  amazement,  how- 
ever, the  monarch  beheld  on  the  Hill  of  Slane,  visible 
from  Tara,  a  bright  fire  kindled  early  in  the  evening. 


1  Son  of  Ninl  the  First. 


40 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


This  was  the  Paschal  fire  which  St.  Patrick  and  his  mis- 
sionaries had  lighted,  for  it  was  Holy  Saturday.  The 
king  sent  for  the  chief  Druid,  and  pointed  out  to  him  on 
the  distant  horizon  the  flickering  beam  that  so  audaciously 
violated  the  sacred  laws.  The  archpriest  gazed  long  and 
wistfully  at  the  spot,  and  eventually  answered :  "  O  king, 
there  is  indeed  a  flame  lighted  on  yonder  hill,  which,  if  it 
he  not  put  out  to-night  will  never  be  quenched  in  Erinn.  ' 
Much  disquieted  by  this  oracular  answer,  Laori  directed 
that  the  offenders,  whoever  they  might  be,  should  be  in- 
stantly brought  before  him  for  punishment.  St.  Patrick, 
on  being  arrested,  arrayed  himself  in  his  vestments,  and, 
crozier  in  hand,  marched  boldly  at  the  head  of  his  cap- 
tors, reciting  aloud,  as  he  went  along,  a  litany  which  is 
still  extant,  in  which  he  invoked,  "on  that  momentous 
day  for  Erinn,"  the  Holy  Trinity,  the  Father,  the  Son, 
and  the  Holy  Spirit,  ever  Blessed  Mary  the  Mother  of 
God,  and  the  saints  around  the  throne  of  heaven.  Hav- 
ing arrived  before  the  king  and  his  assembled  courtiers 
and  druidical  high  priests,  St.  Patrick,  undismayed,  pro- 
claimed  to  them  that  he  had  come  to  quench  the  flres  of 
pagan  sacrifice  in  Ireland,  and  light  the  flame  of  Christian 
faith.  The  king  listened  amazed  and  angered,  yet  no  pen- 
alty fell  on  Patrick.  On  the  contrary,  he  made  several 
converts  on  the  spot,  and  the  sermon  and  controversy  in 
the  king's  presence  proved  an  auspicious  beginning  for 
the  glorious  mission  upon  which  he  had  just  entered. 

It  would  fill  a  large  volume  to  chronicle  the  progress- 
of  the  saint  through  the  island.  Before  his  death,  though 
only  a  few  of  the  reigning  princes  had  embraced  the  faith- 
(for  many  years  subsequently  pagan  kings  ruled  the  coun- 
try), the  good  seeds  had  been  sown  far  and  wide,  and 
were  thriving  apace,  and  the  cross  had  been  raised 
throughout  Ireland,  "  from  the  centre  to  the  sea."  Ours 
was  the  only  cdtlntry  in  Euterpe,  it  is  said,  bloodlessly 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND, 


41 


converted  to  the  faith.  Strictly  speaking,  only  one  mar- 
tyr suffered  death  for  the  evangelisation  of  Ireland,  and 
death  in  this  instance  had  been  devised  for  the  saint  him- 
self. While  St.  Patrick  was  returning  from  Munster  a 
pagan  chieftain  formed  a  design  to  murder  him.  The  plan 
came  to  the  knowledge  of  Odran,  the  faithful  charioteer 
of  Patrick,  who,  saying  nought  of  it  to  him,  managed  to 
change  seats  with  the  saint,  and  thus  received  himself 
the  fatal  blow  intended  for  his  master. 

Another  authentic  anecdote  may  be  mentioned  here. 
At  the  baptism  of  Aengus,  King  of  Mononia  or  Munster, 
St.  Patrick  accidentally  pierced  through  the  sandal-cov- 
ered foot  of  the  king  with  his  pastoral  staff,i  which  ter- 
minated in  an  iron  spike,  and  which  it  was  the  saint's 
custom  to  strike  into  the  ground  by  his  side,  supporting 
himself  more  or  less  thereby,  while  preaching  or  baptiz- 
ing. The  king  bore  the  wound  without  wincing,  until 
the  ceremony  was  over,  when  St.  Patrick  with  surprise 
and  pain  beheld  the  ground  covered  with  blood,  and  ob- 
served the  cause.  Being  questioned  by  the  saint  as  to 
why  he  did  not  cry  out,  Aengus  replied,  that  he  thought  it 
was  part  of  the  ceremony^  to  represent^  though  faintly,  the 
wounds  our  Lord  had  borne  for  man's  redemption ! 

In  the  year  of  our  Lord  493,  on  the  17th  of  March  — 
which  day  is  celebrated  as  his  feast  by  the  Catholic 
Church  and  by  the  Irish  nation  at  home  and  in  exile  — 
St.  Patrick  departed  this  life  in  his  favourite  retreat  of 
Saul,  in  the  county  of  Down,  where  his  body  was  interred. 

1  "  The  staff  of  Jesus  "  is  the  name  by  which  the  crozier  of  St.  Patrick 
is  ahvays  mentioned  in  the  earliest  of  our  annals;  a  weU  preserved  tradi- 
tion asserting  it  to  have  been  a  rood  or  staff  which  our  Lord  had  carried. 
It  vvas  brought  by  St.  Patrick  from  Rome  when  setting  forth  by  the  au- 
thority of  Pope  Celestine  to  evangelise  Ireland.  This  staff  was  treasured 
as  one  of  the  most  precious  relics  on  Irish  soil  for  more  than  one  thousand 
years,  and  was  an  oi)ject  of  special  veneration.  It  was  sacrilegiously  de- 
stroy ed  in  the  reign  of  Hetory  the  Eighth  b'y  one  of  Hwity's  "  reforming  " 
l/isblJpt^,  who  wrftWs  tb  tlife  king  bVaWt'inii  o'f  fhb  dete\l  I 


42 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


''His  obsequies,"  say  the  old  iiiinalists,  "continued  for 
twelve  days,  during  which  the  light  of  innumerable  tapers 
seemed  to  turn  night  into  day ;  and  the  bishops  and 
priests  of  Ireland  congregated  on  the  occasion." 

Several  of  the  saint's  compositions,  chiefly  prayers  and 
litanies,  are  extant.  They  are  full  of  the  most  powerful 
invocations  of  the  saints,  and  in  all  other  particulars  are 
exactly  such  prayers  and  express  such  doctrines  as  are 
taught  in  our  own  day  in  the  unchanged  and  unchange- 
able Catholic  Church. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

A  BETROSPECTIVE  GLANCE  AT  PAGAN  IRELAND. 

E  have  now,  my  dear  young  friends,  arrived  at 
a  memorable  point  in  Irish  history;  we  are 
about  to  pass  from  pagan  Ireland  to  Christian 
Ireland.  Before  doing  so,  it  may  be  well  that  I 
should  tell  you  something  about  matters  which  require  a 
few  words  apart  from  the  brief  narrative  of  ev  ents  which  I 
have  been  relating  for  you.  Let  us  pause,  and  take  a 
glance  at  the  country  and  the  people,  at  the  manners  aud 
customs,  laws  and  institutions,  of  our  pagan  ancestors. 

The  geographical  subdivisions  of  the  country  varied 
in  successive  centuries.  The  chief  subdivision,  the  desig- 
nations of  which  are  most  frequently  used  by  the  ancient 
chroniclers,  was  effected  by  a  line  drawn  from  the  hill  or 
ridge  on  the  south  bank  of  the  Liffey,  on  the  eastern  end 
of  which  the  castle  of  Dublin  is  built,  running  due  west 
to  the  peninsula  of  Marey,  at  the  head  of  Galway  Bay. 


THE  STORY  OF  IE  EL  AS  D. 


43 


The  portion  of  Ireland  south  of  this  line  was  called  Leah 
Moha  C'Moh  Nua's  half")  ;  the  portion  to  the  north  of  it 
Leah  Cuinn  ("Conn's  half").  As  these  names  suggest, 
this  division  of  the  island  was  first  made  between  two 
princes,  Conn  of  the  Hundred  Battles,  and  Moh  Nua,  or 
Eoghan  Mor,  otherwise  Eugene  the  Great,  the  former 
being  the  head  or  chief  representative  of  the  Milesian 
families  descended  from  Ir,  the  latter  the  head  of  those 
descended  from  Heber.  Though  the  primary  object  of 
this  partition  was  achieved  but  for  a  short  time,  the 
names  thus  given  to  the  two  territories  are  found  in  use, 
to  designate  the  northern  and  southern  halves  of  Ireland, 
for  a  thousand  years  subsequently. 

Within  these  there  were  smaller  subdivisions.  The 
ancient  names  of  the  four  provinces  into  which  Ireland  is 
still  divided  were,  Mononia  (Munster),  Dalariada,  or 
Ulidia  (Ulster),  Lagenia  (Leinster),  and  Conacia,  or 
Con  act  (Connaught).  Again,  Mononia  was  subdivided 
into  Thomond  and  Desmond,  i.e.,  north  and  south  Mun- 
ster. Besides  these  names,  the  territory  or  district  pos- 
sessed by  every  sept  or  clan  had  a  designation  of  its  own. 

The  chief  palaces  of  the  Irish  kings,  whose  splendours  . 
are  celebrated  in  Irish  history,  were  :  the  palace  of  Emania, 
in  Ulster,  founded  or  built  by  Macha,  queen  of  Cinbaeth 
the  First  (pronounced  Kimbahe),  about  the  year  B.C. 
700 ;  Tara,  in  Meath ;  Cruachan,  in  Conact,  built  by 
Queen  Maeve,  the  beautiful,  albeit  Amazonian,  Queen  of 
the  West,  about  the  year  B.C.  100;  Aileach,  in  Donegal, 
built  on  the  site  of  an  ancient  Sun-temple,  or  Tuatha  de 
Danaan  fort-palace. 

Kincora  had  not  at  this  period  an  existence,  nor  had  it 
for  some  centuries  subsequently.  It  was  never  more  than 
the  local  residence,,  a  palatial  castle,  of  Brian  Boruma. 
It  stood  on  the  spot  where  now  stands  the  town  of  Killaloe. 

Emania,  next  to  Tara  the  most  celebrated  of  all  the 


44 


TEE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


royal  palaces  of  Ancient  Erinn,  stood  on  the  spot  now 
marked  by  a  large  rath  called  the  Navan  Fort,  two  miles 
to  the  west  of  Armagh.  It  was  the  residence  of  the 
Ulster  kings  for  a  period  of  855  years. 

The  mound  or  Grianan  of  Aileach,  upon  which,  even 
for  hundreds  of  years  after  the  destruction  of  the  palace, 
the  O'Donnells  were  elected,  installed,  or  inaugurated," 
is  still  an  object  of  w^onder  and  curiosity.  It  stands  on 
the  crown  of  a  low  hill  by  the  shores  of  Lough  Swilly, 
about  five  miles  from  Londonderry. 

Royal  Tara  has  been  crowned  with  an  imperishable  fame 
in  song  and  story.  The  entire  crest  and  slopes  of  Tara 
Hill  were  covered  with  buildings  at  one  time ;  for  it  was 
not  alone  a  royal  palace,  the  residence  of  the  Ard-Ri  (or 
High  King)  of  Erinn,  but,  moreover,  the  legislative  cham- 
bers, the  military  buildings,  the  law  courts,  and  roj'al 
universities  that  stood  thereupon.  Of  all  these,  nought 
now  remains  but  the  moated  mounds  or  raths  that  mark 
where  stood  the  halls  within  which  bard  and  warrior, 
ruler  and  lawgiver,  once  assembled  in  glorious  pageant. 

Of  the  orders  of  knighthood,  or  companionships  of 
valour  and  chivalry,  mentioned  in  pagan  Irish  history,  the 
two  principal  were :  the  Knights  of  the  (Craev  Rua,  or) 
Red  Branch  of  Emania,  and  the  Clanna  Morna,  or  Dam- 
nonian  Knights  of  lorras.  The  former  were  a  Dalariadan. 
the  latter  a  Conacian  body ;  and,  test  the  records  how  we 
may,  it  is  incontrovertible  that  no  chivalric  institutions  of 
modern  times  eclipsed  in  knightly  valour  and  romantic 
daring  those  warrior  companionships  of  ancient  Erinn. 

Besides  these  orders  of  knighthood,  several  military 
legions  figure  familiarly  and  prominently  in  Irish  history ; 
but  the  most  celebrated  of  them  all,  the  Dalcassians  — 
one  of  the  most  brave  and  "  glory-crowned  "  bodies  of 
which  there  is  record  in  ancient  or  modern  times  —  did 
not  figure  in  Irish  histbry  Until  long  after  the  commencie- 
mfent  of  the  Christian  era. 


IHE  bloay  oF  IRELAJ^D.  to 

The  Fianna  Eirion  or  National  Militia  of  Erinn,  I  have 
already  mentioned.  This  celebrated  enrolment  had  the 
advantage  of  claiming  within  its  own  ranks  a  warrior- 
poet,  Ossian  (son  of  the  commander  Fin),  whose  poems, 
taking  for  their  theme  invariably  the  achievements  and 
adventures  of  the  Fenian  host,  or  of  its  chiefs,  have  given 
to  it  a  lasting  fame.  According  to  Ossian,  there  never 
existed  upon  the  earth  another  such  force  of  heroes  as  the 
Fianna  Eirion ;  and  the  feats  he  attributes  to  them  were 
of  course  unparalleled.  He  would  have  us  believe  there 
were  no  taller,  straighter,  stronger,  braver,  bolder,  men  in 
all  Erinn,  than  his  Fenian  comrades ;  and  with  the  recital 
of  their  deeds  he  mixes  up  the  wildest  romance  and  fable. 
What  is  strictly  true  of  them  is,  that  at  one  period  un- 
doubtedly they  were  a  splendid  national  force ;  but  ulti- 
mately they  became  a  danger  rather  than  a  protection  to 
the  kingdom,  and  had  to  be  put  down  by  the  regular  army 
in  the  reign  of  King  Carbry  the  Second,  who  encountered 
and  destroyed  them  finally  on  the  bloody  battle-field  of 
Gavra,  about  the  year  A.D.  280. 

Ben  Eder,  now  called  the  Hill  of  Howth,  near  Dublin, 
was  the  camp  or  exercise  ground  of  the  Fianna  Eirion 
when  called  out  annually  for  training. 

The  laws  of  pagan  Ireland,  which  were  collected  and 
codified  in  the  reign  of  Cormac  the  First,  and  which  pre- 
vailed throughout  the  kingdom  as  long  subsequently  as  a 
vestige  of  native  Irish  regal  authority  remained  —  a  space 
of  nearly  fifteen  hundred  years  —  are,  even  in  this  present 
age,  exciting  considerable  attention  amongst  legislators 
and  savans.  A  royal  commission  —  the  "Brehon  Laws 
Commission  "  —  appointed  by  the  British  government  in 
the  year  1866  (chiefly  owing  to  the  energetic  exertions  of 
Rev.  Dr.  Graves  and  Rev.  Dr.  Todd,  of  Trinity  College, 
Dublin),  has  been  labouring  at  their^  translation,  parlia- 
ment voting  an  annual  sum  to  defray  the  expenses.  Of 


TTIK  STORY  OF  in  FLAX  J). 


course  only  portions  of  the  original  manuscripts  are  now 
in  existence,  but  even  these  portions  attest  the  marvellous 
wisdom  and  the  profound  justness  of  the  ancient  Milesian 
Code,  and  give  us  a  high  opinion  of  Irish  jurisprudence 
two  thousand  years  ago  ! 

The  Brehon  Laws  Commission  published  tlieir  first  vol- 
ume, the  Seanchus  Mor,"  in  1865,  and  a  most  mteresting 
publication  it  is.  Immediately  on  the  establishment  of 
Christianity  in  Ireland  a  royal  commission  of  that  day  was 
appointed  to  revise  the  statute  laws  of  Erinn,  so  that  they 
might  be  purged  of  everything  applicable  only  to  a  pagan 
nation  and  inconsistent  with  the  pure  doctrines  of  Chris- 
tianity. On  tliis  commission,  we  are  told,  there  were 
appointed  by  the  Irish  monarch  three  chief  Brehons  or 
judges,  three  Christian  bishops,  and  three  territorial  chiefs 
or  viceroys.  The  result  of  their  labours  was  presented  to 
the  Irish  parliament  of  Tara,  and  being  duly  confirmed, 
the  code  thenceforth  became  known  as  the  Seanchus  Mor. 

From  the  earliest  age  the  Irish  appear  to  have  been 
extremely  fond  of  games,  athletic  sports,  and  displays  of 
prowess  or  agility.  Amongst  the  royal  and  noble  families 
chess  was  the  chief  domestic  game.  There  are  indubitable 
proofs  that  it  was  played  amongst  the  princes  of  Erinn 
two  thousand  years  ago ;  and  the  oldest  bardic  chants  and 
verse-histories  mention  the  gold  and  jewel  inlaid  chess- 
boards of  the  kings. 

Of  the  passionate  attachment  of  the  Irish  to  music,  little 
need  be  said,  as  this  is  one  of  the  national  characteristics 
which  has  been  at  all  times  most  strongly  marked,  and  is 
now  most  widely  appreciated ;  the  harp  being  universally 
emblazoned  as  a  national  emblem  of  Ireland.  Even  in  the 
pre-Christian  period  we  are  here  reviewing,  music  was  an 
institution  "  and  a  power  in  Erinn. 


THE  STOnr  OF  IBELANB. 


47 


CHAPTER  IX. 

CHRISTIAN    IRELAND.      THE    STORY    OF    COLUMBA,  THE 
''DOVE  OF  THE  CELL."' 

^^^^HE  five  hundred  years,  one-half  of  which  pre- 
ceded the  birth  of  our  Lord,  may  be  considered 
the  period  of  Ireland's  greatest  power  and  mili- 
tary glory  as  a  nation.  The  five  hundred  years 
which  succeeded  St.  Patrick's  mission  may  be  regarded  as 
the  period  of  Ireland's  Christian  and  Scholastic  fame.  In 
the  former  she  sent  her  warriors,  in  the  latter  her  missiona- 
ries, all  over  Europe.  Where  her  fierce  hero-kings  carried 
the  sword,  her  saints  now  bore  the  cross  of  faith.  It  was 
in  this  latter  period,  between  the  sixth  and  the  eighth 
centuries  particularly,  that  Ireland  became  known  all 
over  Europe  as  the  Insula  Sanctorum  et  Doctorum  —  ''the 
Island  of  Saints  and  Scholars.'' 

Churches,  cathedrals,  monasteries,  convents,  universi- 
ties, covered  the  island.  From  even  the  most  distant 
parts  of  Europe,  kings  and  their  subjects  came  to  study 
in  the  Irish  schools.  King  Alfred  of  Northumberland  was 
educated  in  one  of  the  Irish  universities.  A  glorious  roll 
of  Irish  saints  and  scholars  belong  to  this  period:  St. 
Columba  or  Columcille,  St.  Columbanus,  St.  Gall,  who 
evangelised  Helvetia,  St.  Frigidian,  who  was  bishop  of 
Lucca  in  Italy,  St.  Livinus,  who  was  martyred  in  Flanders, 
St.  Argobast,  who  became  bishop  of  Strasburg,  St.  Killian, 
the  apostle  of  Franconia,  and  quite  a  host  of  illustrious 
Irish  missionaries,  who  carried  the  blessings  of  faith  and 
education  all  over  Europe.  The  record  of  their  myriad 
adventurous  enterprises,  their  glorious  labours,  their  evan- 
gelising conquests,  cannot  be  traced  within  the  scope  of 


48 


THE  Stonr  OF  litELAN/j. 


this  book.  There  is  one,  however,  the  foremost  of  that 
sainted  band,  with  whom  exception  must  be  made — the 
first  and  the  greatest  of  Irish  missionary  saints,  the  abbot 
of  lona's  isle,  whose  name  and  fame  filled  the  world,  and 
the  story  of  whose  life  is  a  Christian  romance  —  Columba, 
the    Dove  of  the  Cell."  ^ 

The  personal  character  of  Columba  and  the  romantic 
incidents  of  his  life,  as  well  as  his  preeminence  amongst 
the  missionary  conquerors  of  the  British  Isles,  seem  to 
have  had  a  powerful  attraction  for  the  illustrious  Montal- 
embert,  who,  in  his  great  work,  "The  Monks  of  the 
West,"  traces  the  eventful  career  of  the  saint  in  language 
of  exquisite  beauty,  eloquence,  and  feeling.  Moreover, 
there  is  this  to  be  said  further  of  that  Christian  romance, 
as  I  have  called  it,  the  life  of  St.  Columba,  that  happily 
the  accounts  thereof  which  we  possess  are  complete,  au- 
thentic, and  documentary ;  most  of  the  incidents  related 
we  have  on  the  authority  of  well  known  writers,  who 
lived  in  Columba's  time  and  held  personal  communication 
with  him  or  with  his  companions. 

The  picture  presented  to  us  in  these  life-portraitures  of 
lona's  saint  is  assuredly  one  to  move  the  hearts  of  Irish- 
men, young  and  old.  In  Columba  two  great  features 
stand  out  in  bold  prominence;  and  never  perhaps  were 
those  two  characteristics  more  powerfully  developed  in 
one  man  —  devotion  to  God  and  passionate  love  of  coun- 
try. He  was  a  great  saint,  but  he  was  as  great  a  "  politi- 
cian," entering  deeply  and  warmly  into  everything  affecting 
the  weal  of  Clan  Nial,  or  the  honour  of  Erinn.  His  love 
for  Ireland  was  something  beyond  description.  As  he 
often  declared  in  his  after-life  exile,  the  very  breezes  that 
blew  on  the  fair  hills  of  holy  Ireland  were  to  him  like  the 
zephyrs  of  paradise.    Our  story  were  incomplete  indeed, 


1  Columbkille:  in  Englisli,    Dort  of  the  CeU." 


m^:  sTony  of  Ireland, 


49 


without  a  sketch,  however  brief,  of  the  Dove  of  the 
Cell." 

Coluroba  ^  was  a  prince  of  the  royal  race  of  Nial,  his 
father  being  the  third  in  descent  from  the  founder  of  that 
illustrious  house,  Nial  of  thQ  Nine  Hostages.  He  was  born 
at  Gartan,  in  Donegal,  on  the  7th  December,  521.  The 
Irish  legends,"  says  Montalembert,  "  which  are  always 
distinguished,  even  amidst  the  wildest  vagaries  of  fancy, 
by  a  high  and  pure  morality,  linger  lovingly  upon  the 
childhood  and  youth  of  the  predestined  saint."  Before 
his  birth  (according  to  one  of  these  traditions)  the  mother 
of  Columba  had  a  dream,  "  which  posterity  has  accepted 
as  a  graceful  and  poetical  symbol  of  her  son's  career.  An 
angel  appeared  to  her,  bringing  her  a  veil  covered  with 
flowers  of  wonderful  beauty,  and  the  sweetest  variety  of 
colours ;  immediately  after  she  saw  the  veil  carried  away 
by  the  wind,  and  rolling  out  as  it  fled  over  the  plains, 
woods,  and  mountains.  Then  the  angel  said  to  her, 
'  Thou  art  about  to  become  the  mother  of  a  son,  who  shall 
blossom  for  Heaven,  who  shall  be  reckoned  among  tlie 
prophets  of  God,  and  who  shall  lead  numberless  souls  to 
the  heavenly  country.'  " 

But  indeed,  according  to  the  legends  of  the  Hy-Nial, 
the  coming  of  their  great  saint  was  foretold  still  more 
remotely.  St.  Patrick,  they  tell  us,  having  come  north- 
ward to  bless  the  territory  and  people,  was  stopped  at  the 
Daol  —  the  modern  Deel  or  Burndale  river  —  by  the  break- 
ing of  his  chariot  wheels.  The  chariot  was  repaired,  but 
again  broke  down  ;  a  third  time  it  was  refitted,  and  a 
third  time  it  failed  at  the  ford.  Then  Patrick,  addressing 
those  around  him,  said  :  "  Wonder  no  more  :  behold,  the 
land  from  this  stream  northwards  needs  no  blessing  from 
me ;  for  a  son  shall  be  born  there  who  shall  be  called  the 


1  His  name  was  pronounced  Creivan  or  Creivhan. 


TBE  STOUY  OF  ICELAND. 


Dove  of  the  Churches ;  and  he  shall  bless  that  land ;  in 
honour  of  whom  God  has  this  day  prevented  my  doing 
so."  The  name  Ath-an-Charpaid  (ford  of  the  chariot) 
marks  to  this  day  the  spot  memorised  by  this  tradition. 
Count  Montalembert  cites  many  of  these  stories  of  the 
''childhood  and  youth  of  the  predestined  saint."  He  was, 
while  yet  a  child,  confided  to  the  care  of  the  priest  who 
had  baptized  him,  and  from  him  he  received  the  first 
rudiments  of  education.  ''His  guardian  angel  often  ap- 
peared to  him;  and  the  child  asked  if  all  the  angels  in 
Heaven  were  so  young  and  shining  as  he.  A  little  later, 
Columba  was  invited  by  the  same  angel  to  choose  among 
all  the  virtues  that  which  he  would  like  best  to  possess. 
'  I  choose,'  said  the  youth,  '  chastity  and  wisdona ; '  and 
immediately  three  young  girls  of  wonderful  beauty  but 
foreign  air,  appeared  to  him,  and  threw  themselves  on  his 
neck  to  embrace  him.  The  pious  youth  frowned,  and  re- 
pulsed them  with  indignation.  '  What,'  they  said,  '  then 
thou  dost  not  know  us  ?  '  — '  No,  not  the  least  in  the  world.' 
— '  We  are  three  sisters,  whom  our  Father  gives  to  thee 
to  be  thy  brides.'  —  '  Who,  then,  is  your  Father  ?  ' —  '  Our 
Father  is  God,  He  is  Jesus  Christ,  the  Lord  and  Saviour 
of  the  world.' — 'Ah,  you  have  indeed  an  illustrious 
Father.  But  what  are  your  names?'  —  'Our  names  are 
Virginity,  Wisdom,  and  Prophecy ;  and  we  come  to  leave 
thee  no  more,  to  love  thee  with  an  incorruptible  love.' " 

From  the  house  of  this  early  tutor  Columba  "passed 
into  the  great  monastic  schools,  w^hich  were  not  only  a 
nursery  for  the  clergy  of  the  Irish  Church,  but  where  also 
young  laymen  of  all  conditions  were  educated," 

"  While  Columba  studied  at  Clonard,  being  still  only  a 
deacon,"  says  his  biographer,  "an  incident  took  place 
which  has  been  proved  by  authentic  testimony,  and  which 
fixed  general  attention  upon  him  by  giving  a  first  evidence 
of  his  supernatural  and  prophetic  intuition.     An  old 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND.  51 

Christian  bard  (the  bards  were  not  all  Christians)  named 
Germain  had  come  to  live  near  the  Abbot  P'inian,  asking 
from  him,  in  exchange  for  his  poetry,  the  secret  of  fertil- 
izing the  soil.  Columba,  who  continued  all  his  life  a  pas- 
sionate admirer  of  the  traditionary  poetry  of  his  nation, 
determined  to  join  the  school  of  the  bard,  and  to  share  his 
labours  and  studies.  The  two  were  reading  together  out 
of  doors,  at  a  little  distance  from  each  other,  when  a 
young  girl  appeared  in  the  distance  pursued  by  a  robber. 
At  the  sight  of  the  old  man  the  fugitive  made  for  him 
with  all  her  remaining  strength,  hoping,  no  doubt,  to  find 
safety  in  the  authority  exercised  throughout  Ireland  by 
the  national  poets.  Germxain,  in  great  trouble,  called  his 
pupil  to  his  aid  to  defend  the  unfortunate  child,  who  was 
trying  to  hide  herself  under  their  long  robes,  when  her 
pursuer  reached  the  spot.  Without  taking  anj^  notice  of 
her  defenders,  he  struck  her  in  the  neck  with  his  lance, 
and  was  making  off,  leaving  her  dead  at  their  feet.  The 
horrified  old  man  turned  to  Columba.  '  How  long,'  he 
said,  '  will  God  leave  unpunished  this  crime  which  dishon- 
ours us?'  —  'For  this  moment  only,' said  Columba,  'not 
longer;  at  this  very  hour,  when  the  soul  of  this  innocent 
creature  ascends  to  heaven,  the  soul  of  the  murderer  shall 
go  down  to  hell.'  At  the  instant,  like  Ananias  at  the 
words  of  Peter,  the  assassin  fell  dead.  The  news  of  this 
sudden  punishment,  the  story  goes,  went  over  Ireland, 
and  spread  the  fame  of  the  young  Columba  far  and 
wide." 

At  the  comparatively  early  age  of  twenty-five,  Columba 
had  attained  to  a  prominent  position  in  the  ecclesiastical 
world,  and  had  presided  over  the  creation  of  a  crowd  of 
monasteries.  As  many  as  thirty-seven  in  Ireland  alone 
recognized  him  as  their  founder.  "  It  is  easy,"  says  Mon- 
talembert,  "to  perceive,  by  the  importance  of  the  monastic 
establishments  which  he  had  brought  into  being,  even 


52 


THJS  STOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


before  he  had  attained  to  manhood,  that  his  influence  must 
have  been  as  precocious  as  it  was  considerable.  Apart 
from  the  virtues  of  which  his  after  life  afforded  so  many 
examples,  it  may  be  supposed  that  his  royal  birth  gave 
him  an  irresistible  ascendency  in  a  country  where,  since 
the  introduction  of  Christianity,  all  the  early  saints,  like 
the  principal  abbots,  belonged  to  reigning  families,  and 
where  the  influence  of  blood  and  the  worship  of  genealogy 
still  continue,  even  to  this  day,  to  a  degree  unknown  in 
other  lands.  Springing,  as  has  been  said,  from  the  same 
race  as  the  monarch  of  all  Ireland,  and  .consequently  him- 
self eligible  for  the'  same  high  office,  which  was  more 
frequently  obtained  by  election  or  usurpation  than  inherit- 
ance—  nephew  or  near  cousin  of  the  seven  monarchs  who 
successively  wielded  the  supreme  authority  during  his  life 
—  he  was  also  related  by  ties  of  blood  to  almost  all  the 
provincial  kings.  Thus  we  see  him  during  his  whole  ca- 
reer treated  on  a  footing  of  perfect  intimacy  and  equality 
by  all  the  princes  of  Ireland  and  of  Caledonia,  and  exer- 
cising a  sort  of  spiritual  sway  equal  or  superior  to  the 
authority  of  secular  sovereigns." 

His  attachment  to  poetry  and  literature  has  been  already 
glanced  at.  He  was,  in  fact,  an  enthusiast  on  the  subject ; 
he  was  himself  a  poet  and  writer  of  a  high  order  of  genius, 
and  to  an  advanced  period  of  his  life  remained  an  ardent 
devotee  of  the  muse,  ever  powerfully  moved  by  whatever 
affected  the  weal  of  the  minstrel  fraternity.  His  passion 
for  books  (all  manuscript,  of  course,  in  those  days,  and  of 
great  rarity  and  value)  was  destined  to  lead  him  into  that 
great  offence  of  his  life,  which  he  Avas  afterwards  to  expiate 
by  a  penance  so  grievous.  He  went  everywhere  in  search 
of  volumes  which  he  could  borrow  or  copy ;  often  expe- 
riencing refusals  which  he  resented  bitterly."  In  this  way 
occurred  what  Montalerabert  calls  "  the  decisive  event 
which  changed  the  destiny  of  Columba,  and  transformed 


THE  STOEY  OF  IBELAXD. 


53 


him  from  a  wandering  poet  and  ardent  book-worm,  into  a 
missionary  and  apostle."  While  visiting  one  of  his  former 
tutors,  Finian,  he  found  means  to  copy  clandestinely  the 
abbot's  Psalter  by  shutting  himself  up  at  nights  in  the 
church  where  the  book  was  deposited.  Indignant  at 
what  he  considered  as  almost  a  theft,  Finian  claimed  the 
copy  when  it  was  finished  by  Columba,  on  the  ground  tliat 
a  copy  made  without  permission  ought  to  belong  to  the 
master  of  the  original,  seeing  that  the  transcription  is  the 
son  of  the  original  book.  Columba  refused  to  give  up  his 
work,  and  the  question  was  referred  to  the  king  in  his 
palace  of  Tara."  What  immediately  follows,  I  relate  in 
the  words  of  Count  Montalembert,  summarizing  or  citing 
almost  literally  the  ancient  authors  already  referred  to :  — 
"  King  Diarmid,  or  Dermott,  supreme  monarch  of  Ire- 
land, was,  like  Columba,  descended  from  the  great  King 
Nial,  but  by  another  son  than  he  whose  great-grandson 
Columba  was.  He  lived,  like  all  the  princes  of  his  coun- 
try, in  a  close  union  with  the  Church,  which  was  repre- 
sented in  Ireland,  more  completely  than  anywhere  else, 
by  the  monastic  order.  Exiled  and  persecuted  in  his 
youth,  he  had  found  refuge  in  an  island  situated  in  one  of 
those  lakes  which  interrupt  the  course  of  the  Shannon,  the 
chief  river  of  Ireland,  and  had  there  formed  a  friendship 
with  a  holy  monk  called  Kieran,  a  zealous  comrade  of  Co- 
lumba at  the  monastic  school  of  Clonard,  and  since  that 
time  his  generous  rival  in  knowledge  and  in  austerity. 
Upon  the  still  solitary  bank  of  the  river  the  two  friends 
had  planned  the  foundation  of  a  monastery,  which,  owing 
to  the  marshy  nature  of  the  soil,  had  to  be  built  upon  piles. 
*  Plant  with  me  the  first  stake,'  the  monk  said  to  the  exiled 
prince,  'putting  your  hand  under  mine,  and  soon  that  hand 
shall  be  over  all  the  men  of  Erinn ; '  and  it  happened  that 
Diarmid  was  very  shortly  after  called  to  the  throne.  He 
immediately  used  his  new  power  to  endow  richly  the 


54 


THE  :6T0RY  OF  IRELASD. 


monastery  which  was  rendered  doubly  dear  to  him  by  the 
recollection  of  his  exile  and  of  his  friend.  This  sanctuary 
became,  under  the  name  of  Clonmacnoise,  one  of  the 
greatest  monasteries  and  most  frequented  schools  of  Ire- 
land and  even  of  Western  Europe. 

"  This  king  might  accordingly  be  regarded  as  a  competent 
judge  in  a  contest  at  once  monastic  and  literary ;  he  might 
even  have  been  suspected  of  partiality  for  Columba,  his 
kinsman,  —  and  yet  he  pronounced  judgment  against  him. 
His  judgment  was  given  in  a  rustic  phrase  which  has 
passed  into  a  proverb  in  Ireland  —  To  every  cow  her  calf, 
and,  consequently,  to  every  book  its  copy.  Columba  pro- 
tested loudly.  '  It  is  an  unjust  sentence,'  he  said,  '  and  I 
will  revenge  myself.'  After  this  incident  a  young  prince, 
son  of  the  provincial  king  of  Connaught,  who  was  pursued 
for  having  committed  an  involuntary  murder,  took  refuge 
with  Columba,  but  was  seized  and  put  to  death  by  the 
king.  The  irritation  of  the  poet-monk  knew  no  bounds. 
The  ecclesiastical  immunity  which  he  enjoyed  in  liis  quality 
of  superior  and  founder  of  several  monasteries,  ought  to 
have,  in  his  opinion,  created  a  sort  of  sanctuary  around 
his  person,  and  this  immunity  had  been  scandalously  vio- 
lated by  the  execution  of  a  youth  whom  he  protected. 
He  threatened  the  king  with  prompt  vengeance.  'I  will 
denounce,'  he  said,  '  to  my  brethren  and  my  kindred  thy 
wicked  judgment,  and  the  violation  in  my  person  of  the 
immunity  of  the  Church ;  they  will  listen  to  my  complaint, 
and  punish  thee  sword  in  hand.  Bad  king,  thou  shalt  no 
more  see  my  face  in  thy  province,  until  God,  the  just 
judge,  has  subdued  thy  pride.  As  thou  hast  humbled  me 
to-day  before  thy  lords  and  thy  friends,  God  will  humble 
thee  on  the  battle-day  before  thine  enemies.'  Diarmid 
attempted  to  retain  him  by  force  in  the  neighbourhood ; 
but,  evading  the  vigilance  of  his  guards,  he  escaped  by 
night  from  the  court  of  Tara,  and  directed  his  steps  to  his 
native  uroviiinp.  of  Tyrconnell, 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELASD. 


55 


"Columba  arrived  safely  in  liis  province,  and  imme- 
diately set  to  work  to  excite  against  King  Diarmid  the 
numerous  and  powerful  clans  of  his  relatives  and  friends, 
who  belonged  to  a  branch  of  the  house  of  Nial,  distinct 
from  and  hostile  to  that  of  the  reigning  monarch.  His 
efforts  were  crowned  ^vith  success.  The  Hy-Xials  of  the 
north  armed  eagerly  against  the  Hy-Nials  of  the  south,  of 
whom  Diarmid  was  the  special  chief. 

Diarmid  marched  to  meet  them,  and  they  met  in  battle 
at  Cool-Drewny,  or  Cul-Dreimhne,  upon  the  borders  of 
Ultonia  and  Connacia.  He  was  completely  beaten,  and  was 
obliged  to  take  refuge  at  Tara.  The  victory  was  due,  ac- 
cording to  the  annalist  Tighernach,  to  the  prayers  and 
songs  of  Columba,  who  had  fasted  and  prayed  with  all  liis 
might  to  obtain  from  Heaven  the  punishment  of  the  royal 
insolence,  and  who,  besides,  was  present  at  the  battle,  and 
took  upon  himself  before  all  men  the  responsibility  of  the 
bloodshed. 

"  As  for  the  manuscript  which  had  been  the  object  of 
this  strange  conflict  of  copyright  elevated  into  a  civil  war, 
it  was  afterwards  venerated  as  a  kind  of  national,  military, 
and  religious  palladium.  Under  the  name  of  Cathach  or 
Fightu,  the  Latin  Psalter  transcribed  by  Columba,  en- 
shrined in  a  sort  of  portable  altar,  became  the  national 
relic  of  the  O'Donnell  clan.  For  more  than  a  thousand 
years  it  was  carried  with  them  to  battle  as  a  pledge  of 
victory,  on  the  condition  of  being  supported  on  the  breast 
of  a  clerk  free  from  all  mortal  sin.  It  has  escaped  as  by 
miracle  from  the  ravages  of  which  Ireland  has  been  the 
victim,  and  exists  still,  to  the  great  joy  of  all  learned  Irish 
patriots."  ^ 


1  **The  Annals  of  the  Four  Masters  report  that  in  a  battle  waged  in 
1497,  betsveen  the  O'Donnells  and  M'Dermotts,  the  sacred  book  fell  into 
the  hands  of  the  latter,  who,  however,  restored  it  in  1499.  It  was  preserved 
for  thirteen  hundred  years  in  the  O'Donnell  family,  and  at  present  belon-s 


56 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


But  soon  a  terrible  punishment  was  to  fall  upon  Columba 
for  this  dread  violence.  He,  an  anointed  priest  of  the 
Most  High,  a  minister  of  the  Prince  of  Peace,  had  made 
himself  the  cause  and  the  inciter  of  a  civil  war,  which  had 
batlied  the  land  in  blood  —  the  blood  of  Christian  men  — 
the  blood  of  kindred  !  Clearly  enough,  the  violence  of 
political  passions,  of  which  this  war  was  the  most  lamen- 
table fruit,  had,  in  many  other  ways,  attracted  upon  the 
youthful  monk  the  severe  opinions  of  the  ecclesiastical 
authorities.  His  excitable  and  vindictive  character,"  we 
are  told,  and  above  all  his  passionate  attachment  to  his 
relatives,  and  the  violent  part  which  he  took  in  their  do- 
mestic disputes  and  their  continually  recurring  rivalries, 
had  engaged  him  in  other  struggles,  the  date  of  which  is 
perhaps  later  than  that  of  his  first  departure  from  Ireland, 
but  the  responsibility  of  which  is  formally  imputed  to  him 
by  various  authorities,  and  which  also  ended  in  bloody 
battles."  At  all  events,  immediately  after  the  battle  of 
Cool-Drewny,  he  was  accused  by  a  synod,  convoked  in 
the  centre  of  the  royal  domain  at  Tailte,  of  having  occa- 
sioned the  shedding  of  Christian  blood."  The  sj' nod  seems 
to  have  acted  with  very  uncanonical  precipitancy  ;  for  it 
judged  the  cause  without  waiting  for  the  defence  —  though, 
in  sooth,  the  facts,  beyond  the  power  of  any  defence  to 
remove,  were  ample  and  notorious.  However,  the  decision 
was  announced  —  sentence  of  excommunication  was  pro- 
nounced against  him ! 

"Columba  was  not  a  man  to  draw  back  before  his 


to  a  baronet  of  that  name,  wlio  has  permitted  it  to  be  exhibited  in  the 
museum  of  the  Royal  Irish  Academy,  where  it  can  be  seen  by  aU.  It  is 
composed  of  fifty-eight  leaves  of  parchment,  bound  in  silver.  The  learned 
O'Curry  (p.  322)  has  given  a  fac-simile  of  a  fragment  of  this  MS.,  which  he 
docs  not  hesitate  to  belie^ve  is  in  tlie  handwriting  of  our  saint,  as  well  as 
that  of  the  fine  copy  of  the  Gospels  called  the  Book  of  Kells,  of  which  he 
has  also  given  a  fac-simile.  See  Reeves'  notes  upon  Adamnan,  p.  250,  and 
the  pamphlet  ui:)on  Tvlarianus  Scotus,  p.  12." —  Count  Montalemherffi  note. 


TEE  STOBY  OF  lUELASD. 


57 


accusers  and  judges.  He  presented  himself  before  the 
synod  which  had  struck  without  hearing  him.  He  found 
a  defender  in  the  famous  Abbot  Brendan,  the  founder  of 
the  monastery  of  Birr.  When  Columba  made  his  appear- 
ance, this  abbot  rose,  went  up  to  him,  and  embraced  him. 
'  How  can  you  give  the  kiss  of  peace  to  an  excommuni- 
cated man  ? '  said  some  of  the  other  members  of  the  synod. 
•You  would  do  as  I  have  done,'  he  answered,  'and  you 
never  would  have  excommunicated  him,  had  you  seen 
wiat  I  see  —  a  pillar  of  fire  which  goes  before  him,  and 
the  angels  that  accompany  him.  I  dare  not  disdain  a  man 
predestined  by  God  to  be  the  guide  of  an  entire  people  to 
eternal  life.'  Thanks  to  the  intervention  of  Brendan,  or 
to  some  other  motive  not  mentioned,  the  sentence  of  ex- 
communication was  withdrawn,  but  Columba  was  charged 
to  win  to  Christ,  by  his  preaching,  as  many  pagan  souls 
as  the  number  of  Christians  who  had  fallen  in  the  battle 
of  Cool-Drewny." 

Troubled  in  soul,  but  still  struggling  with  a  stubborn 
self-will,  Columba  found  his  life  miserable,  unhappy,  and 
full  of  unrest;  yet  remorse  had  even  now  "planted  in  his 
soul  the  germs  at  once  of  a  startling  conversion  and  of 
his  future  apostolic  mission."  "  Various  legends  reveal 
him  to  us  at  this  crisis  of  his  life,  wandering  long  from 
solitude  to  solitude,  and  from  monastery  to -monastery, 
seeking  out  holy  monks,  masters  of  penitence  and  Chris- 
tian virtue,. and  asking  them  anxiously  what  he  should  do 
to  obtain  the  pardon  of  God  for  the  murder  of  so  many 
victims." 

At  length,  after  many  wanderings  in  contrition  and 
mortification,  ''he  found  the  light  which  he  sought  from  a 
holy  monk,  St.'  Molaise,  famed  for  his  studies  of  Holy 
Scripture,  and  who  had  already  been  his  confessor. 

"This  severe  hermit  confirmed  the  decision  of  the 
synod ;  but  to  the  obligation  of  converting  to  the  Chris^ 


58 


THE  ISTOIIY  OF  IRELAyD. 


tian  faith  an  equal  number  of  pagans  as  there  were  of 
Christians  killed  in  the  civil  war,  he  added  a  new  condi- 
tion, which  bore  cruelly  upon  a  soul  so  passionately 
attached  to  country  and  kindred.  The  confessor  con- 
demned his  penitent  to  j^erpetual  exile  from  Ireland!^'' 

Exile  from  Ireland  I  Did  Columba  hear  the  words 
aright  ?  Exile  from  Ireland  !  What  I  See  no  more  that 
land  which  he  loved  with  such  a  wild  and  passionate  love  I 
Part  from  the  brothers  and  kinsmen  all,  for  whom  he  felt 
perhaps  too  strong  and  too  deep  an  affection  !  Quit  for 
aye  the  stirring  scenes  in  which  so  great  a  part  of  his 
sympathies  were  engaged  I    Leave  Ireland  ! 

Oh !  it  was  more  hard  than  to  bare  his  breast  to  the 
piercing  sword ;  less  welcome  than  to  walk  in  constant 
punishment  of  suffering,  so  that  his  feet  pressed  the  soil 
of  his  worshipped  Erinn  I 

But  it  was  even  so.  Thus  ran  the  sentence  of  Molaise  : 
perpetual  exile  from  Ireland!'^ 

Staggered,  stunned,  struck  to  the  heart,  Columba  could 
not  speak  for  a  moment.  But  God  gave  him  in  that  great 
crisis  of  his  life  the  supreme  grace  of  bearing  the  blow 
and  embracing  the  cross  presented  to  him.  At  last  he 
spoke,  and  in  a  voice  agitated  with  emotion  he  answered : 

Be  it  so  ;  tvhat  you  have  commanded  shall  he  done^ 

From  that  instant  forth  his  life  was  one  prolonged  act 
of  penitential  sacrifice.  For  thirty  years  — his  heart  burst- 
ing witliin  his  breast  the  while — yearning  for  one  sight 
of  Ireland  —  he  lived  and  laboured  in  distant  lona.  The 
fame  of  his  sanctity  filled  the  world;  religious  houses  sub- 
ject to  his  rule  arose  in  many  a  glen  and  isle  of  rugged 
Caledonia ;  the  gifts  of  prophecy  and  miracle  momentously 
attested  him  as  one  of  God's  most  favoured  apostles :  yet 
all  the  while  his  heart  was  breaking ;  all  the  while  In  his 
silent  cell  Columba's  tears  flowed  freely  for  the  one  grief 
that  never  left  him  —  the  wound  that  only  deepened  with 


TIJi:  STOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


59 


lengthening  time  —  he  was  away  from  Ireland !  Into  all 
his  thoughts  this  sorrow  entered.  In  all  his  songs  —  and 
several  of  his  compositions  still  remain  to  us  —  this  one  sad 
strain  is  introduced.  Witness  the  following,  which,  even 
in  its  merely  literal  translation  into  the  English,  retains 
much  of  the  poetic  beauty  and  exquisite  tenderness  of 
the  original  by  Columba  in  the  Gaelic  tongue :  — 

What  joy  to  fly  upon  the  white-crested  sea ;  and  watch  the  waves 
break  upon  the  Irish  shore  ! 

My  foot  is  in  my  little  boat ;  but  my  sad  heart  ever  bleeds  !  ■ 

There  is  a  gray  eye  ivhich  ever  turns  to  Erinn;  but  never  in  this  life  sJiall 

it  see  Erinn,  nor  Iter  sons,  nor  her  daughters ! 
From  the  high  prow  I  look  over  the  sea ;  and  great  tears  are  in  my 

eyes  when  I  turn  to  Erinn  — 
To  Erinn,  w^here  the  songs  of  the  birds  are  so  sweet,  and  where  the 

clerks  sing  like  the  birds : 
Where  the  young  are  so  gentle,  and  the  old  are  so  wise ;  where  the 

great  men  are  so  noble  to  look  at,  and  the  women  so  fair  to 

wed ! 

Young  traveller !  carry  my  sorrows  with  you  ;  carry  them  to  Comgall 
of  eternal  life ! 

Noble  youth,  take  my  pra}'er  with  thee,  and  my  blessing :  one  part 
for  Ireland  —  seven  times  may  she  be  blest  —  and  the  other 
for  Albyn. 

Carry  my  blessing  across  the  sea ;  carry  it  to  the  West.    My  heart  is 

broken  in  my  breast ! 
If  death  comes  suddenly  to  me,  it  will  be  because  of  the  great  love 

I  bear  to  the  Gael  I  ^ 

It  was  to  the  rugged  and  desolate  Hebrides  that  Columba 
turned  his  face  when  he  accepted  the  terrible  penance  of 
Molaise.  He  bade  farewell  to  his  relatives,  and,  with  a 
few  monks  who  insisted  on  accompanjang  him  whither- 


1  This  poem  appears  to  have  been  presented  as  a  farewell  gift  by  St. 
Columba  to  some  of  the  Irish  visitors  at  lona,  when  returning  home  to 
Ireland.  It  is  deservedly  classed  amongst  the  most  beautiful  of  his  poetic 
compositions, 


60 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


soever  he  might  go,  launched  his  frail  currochs  from  the 
northern  shore.  They  landed  first,  or  rather  were  carried 
by  wind  and  stream,  upon  the  little  isle  of  Oronsay,  close 
by  Islay ;  and  here  for  a  moment  they  thought  their  future 
abode  was  to  be.  But  when  Columba,  with  the  early 
morning,  ascending  the  highest  ground  on  the  island,  to 
take  what  he  thought  would  be  a  harmless  look  towards 
the  land  of  his  heart,  lo !  on  the  dim  horizon  a  faint  blue 
ridge  —  the  distant  hills  of  Antrim  !  He  averts  his  head 
and  flies  downwards  to  the  strand  !  Here  they  cannot 
stay,  if  his  vow  is  to  be  kept.  They  betake  them  once 
more  to  the  currochs,  and  steering  further  northward, 
eventually  land  upon  lona,  thenceforth,  till  time  shall  be 
no  more,  to  be  famed  as  the  sacred  isle  of  Columba! 
Here  landing,  he  ascended  the  loftiest  of  the  hills  upon 
the  isle,  and  gazing  into  the  distance,  found  no  longer 
any  trace  of  Ireland  upon  the  horizon."  In  lona  accord- 
ingly he  resolved  to  make  his  home.  The  spot  from 
whence  St.  Columba  made  this  sorrowful  survey  is  still 
called  by  the  isles-men  in  the  Gaelic  tongue,  Carn-ad-ri' 
JSrinn^  or  the  Cairn  of  Farewell  —  literally,  The  back 
turned  on  Ireland, 

Writers  without  number  -have  traced  the  glories  of 
lona.^  Here  rose,  as  if  by  miracle,  a  city  of  churches; 
the  isle  became  one  vast  monastery,  and  soon  much  too 
small  for  the  crowds  that  still  pressed  thither.  Then  from 
the  parent  isle  there  went  forth  to  the  surrounding  shores, 
and  all  over  the  mainland,  off-shoot  establishments  and 

1  "We  are  now,"  said  Dr.  Johnson,  "treading  that  illustrious  island 
which  was  once  the  luminary  of  the  Caledonian  regions;  whence  savage 
clans  and  roving  barbarians  derived  the  benefits  of  knowledge  and  the 
blessings  of  religion.  .  .  .  Far  from  me  and  from  my  friends  be  such  frigid 
philosophy  as  may  conduct  ns  indifferent  and  unmoved  over  any  ground 
which  has  been  dignified  by  wisdom,  bravery,  or  virtue.  That  man  is  little 
to  be  envied  whose  patriotism  would  not  gain  force  upon  the  plain  of 
Marathon,  or  whose  piety  would  not  grow  warmer  among  the  ruins  of 
Tona,"  —  Borwdll's  Tmir  to  the  Hebn'drK, 


THE  STORY  OF  IBKLANl), 


61 


inissionaty  colonies  (all  under  the  authority  of  Columba), 
until  in  tini«  the  Gospel  light  was  ablaze  on  the  hills  of 
Albyn ;  and  the  names  of  St«  Columba  and  lona  were  on 
every  tongue  from  Rome  to  the  utmost  limits  of  Europe! 

"  This  man,  whom  we  have  seen  so  passionate,  so  irrita- 
ble, so  warlike  and  vindictive,  became  little  by  little  the 
most  gentle,  the  humblest,  the  most  tender  of  friends  and 
fathers.  It  was  he,  the  great  head  of  the  Caledonian 
Church,  who,  kneeling  before  the  strangers  who  came  to 
lona,  or  before  the  monks  returning  from  their  work,  took 
off  their  shoes,  washed  their  feet,  and  after  having  washed 
them,  respectfully  kissed  them.  But  charity  was  still 
stronger  than  humility  in  that  transfigured  sotil.  No 
necessity,  spiritual  or  temporal,  found  him  indifferent. 
He  devoted  himself  to  the  solace  of  all  infirmities,  all 
misery,  and  pain,  weeping  often  over  those  who  did  not 
weep  for  themselves. 

"  The  work  of  transcription  remained  until  his  last  day 
the  occupation  of  his  old  age,  as  it  had  been  the  passion 
of  his  youth;  it  had  such  an  attraction  for  him,  and 
seemed  to  him  so  essential  to  a  knowledge  of  the  truth, 
that,  as  we  have  already  said,  three  hundred  copies  of  the 
Holy  Gospels,  copied  by  his  own  hand,  have  been  attrib- 
uted to  him." 

But  still  Columba  carried  with  him  in  his  heart  the 
great  grief  that  made  life  for  him  a  lengthened  penance. 

Far  from  having  any  prevision  of  the  glory  of  lona,  his 
soul,"  says  Montalembert,  was  still  swayed  by  a  senti- 
ment which  never  abandoned  him  —  regret  for  his  lost 
country.  All  his  life  he  retained  for  Ireland  the  passion- 
ate tenderness  of  an  exile,  a  love  which  displayed  itself 
in  the  songs  which  have  been  preserved  to  us,  and  which 
date  perhaps  from  the  first  moment  of  his  exile.  .  .  . 
'  Death  in  faultless  Ireland  is  better  than  life  without  end 
in  Albyn.'  After  this  cry  of  despair  follow  strains  more 
plaintive  and  Huhmi.esive, 


62 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


"  But  it  was  not  only  in  these  elegies,  repeated  and 
perhaps  retouched  by  Irish  bards  and  monks,  but  at  each 
instant  of  his  life,  in  season  and  out  of  season,  that  this 
love  and  passionate  longing  for  his  native  country  burst 
forth  in  words  and  musings ;  the  narratives  of  his  most 
trustworthy  biographers  are  full  of  it.  The  most  severe 
penance  which  he  could  have  imagined  for  the  guiltiest 
sinners  who  came  to  confess  to  him,  was  to  impose  upon 
them  the  same  fate  which  he  had  voluntarily  inflicted  on 
himself  —  never  to  set  foot  again  upon  Irish  soil!  But 
when,  instead  of  forbidding  to  sinners  all  access  to  that 
beloved  isle,  he  had  to  smother  his  envy  of  those  who  had 
the  right  and  happiness  to  go  there  at  their  pleasure,  he 
dared  scarcely  trust  himself  to  name  its  name ;  and  when 
speaking  to  his  guests,  or  to  the  monks  who  were  to  return 
to  Ireland,  he  would  only  say  to  them,  '  you  will  return  to 
the  country  that  you  love.' " 

At  length  there  arrived  an  event  for  Columba  full  of 
excruciating  trial  —  it  became  necessary/  for  him  to  revisit 
Ireland!  His  presence  was  found  to  be  imperatively  re- 
quired at  the  general  assembly  or  convocation  of  the 
princes  and  prelates  of  the  Irish  nation,  convened  A.D. 
673  by  Hugh  the  Second.^  At  this  memorable  assembty, 
known  in  history  as  the  great  Convention  of  Drumceat, 
the  first  meeting  of  the  States  of  Ireland  held  since  the 
abandonment  of  Tara,  there  were  to  be  discussed,  amongst 
other  important  subjects,  two  which  were  of  deep  and 
powerful  interest  to  Columba :  firstly,  the  relations  be- 
tween Ireland  and  the  Argyle  or  Caledonian  colony ;  and 
secondly,  the  proposed  decree  for  the  abolition  of  the 
bards. 

The  country  now  known  as  Scotland  was,  about  the 
time  of  the  Christian  era,  inhabited  by  a  barbarous  and 


1  A«dh  (pronounced  Aeh),  ton  of  Anmire  the  First, 


THE  STOnr  OF  IRELAXl). 


63 


warlike  race  called  Picts.  About  the  middle  of  the  sec- 
ond century,  when  Ireland  was  known  to  the  Romans  as 
Scotia,  an  Irish  chieftain,  Carbry  Riada  (from  whom  were 
descended  the  Dalariads  of  Antrim),  crossed  over  to  the 
western  shores  of  Alba  or  Albj'n,  and  founded  there  a 
Dalariadan  or  Milesian  colony.  The  colonists  had  a  hard 
time  of  it  with  their  savage  Pictish  neighbours ;  yet  they 
managed  to  hold  their  ground,  though  receiving  very  little 
aid  or  attention  fj^om  the  parent  country,  to  which  never- 
theless they  regularly  paid  tribute.  At  length,  in  the 
year  503,  the  neglected  colony  was  utterly  overwhelmed 
by  the  Picts,  whereupon  a  powerful  force  of  the  Irish 
Dalariads,  under  the  leadership  of  Leorn,  Aengus,  and 
Fergus,  crossed  over,  invaded  Albany,  and  gradually  sub- 
jugating the  Picts,  reestablished  the  colony  on  a  basis 
which  was  the  foundation  eventually  of  the  Scottish  mon- 
archy of  all  subsequent  history.  To  the  reestablished 
colony  was  given  the  name  hj  which  it  was  known  long 
after,  Scotia  Minor  ;  Ireland  being  called  Scotia  Major. 

In  the  time  of  St.  Columba,  the  colony,  which  so  far 
had  continuously  been  assessed  by,  and  had  duly  paid  its 
tribute  to,  the  mother  country,  began  to  feel  its  compe- 
tency to  claim  independence.  Already  it  had  selected  and 
Mistalled  a  king  (whom  St.  Columba  had  formally  con- 
.^ecrated),  and  now  it  sent  to  Ireland  a  demand  to  be  ex- 
empted from  further  tribute.  The  Irish  monarch  resisted 
the  demand,  which,  however,  it  was  decided  first  to  sub- 
mit to  a  national  assembly,  at  which  the  Scottish  colony 
should  be  represented,  and  where  it  might  plead  its  case  as 
best  it  could.  Many  and  obvious  considerations  pointed 
to  St.  Columba  as  the  man  of  men  to  plead  the  cause  of 
the  young  nationality  on  this  momentous  occasion.  He 
was  peculiarly  qualified  to  act  as  umpire  in  this  threaten- 
ing quarrel  between  the  old  country,  to  which  he  felt 
bound  by  such  sacred  ties,  and  the  new  one,  which  by 


TB^:  !STOIiy  OF  IttELANt). 


adoption  was  now  his  home.  He  consented  to  attend  at 
the  assembly*  He  did  so  the  more  readily,  perhaps,  be- 
cause of  his  strong  feelings  in  reference  to  the  other 
proposition  named,  viz.,  the  proscription  of  the  bards. 

It  may  seem  strange  that  in  Ireland,  where,  from  an 
early  date,  music  and  song  held  so  high  a  place  in  national 
estimation,  such  a  proposition  should  be  made.  But  by 
this  time  the  numerous  and  absurd  immunities  claimed 
by  the  bardic  profession  had  become  intolerable  ;  and  by 
gross  abuses  of  the  bardic  privileges,  the  bards  themselves 
had  indubitably  become  a  pest  to  society.  King  Hugh 
had,  therefore,  a  strong  public  opinion  at  his  back  in  his 
design  of  utterly  abolishing  the  bardic  corporation. 

St.  Columba,  however,  not  only  was  allied  to  them  by 
a  fraternity  of  feeling,  but  he  discerned  clearly  that  by 
purifying  and  conserving,  rather  than  by  destroying,  the 
national  minstrelsy,  it  would  become  a  potential  influence 
for  good,  and  would  entwine  itself  gratefully  around  the 
shrine  within  which  at  such  a  crisis  it  found  shelter.  In 
fine,  he  felt,  and  felt  deeply,  as  an  Irishman  and  as  an 
ecclesiastic,  that  the  proposition  of  King  Hugh  would 
annihilate  one  of  the  most  treasured  institutions  of  the 
nation  —  one  of  the  most  powerful  aids  to  patriotism  and 
religion. 

So,  to  plead  the  cause  of  liberty  for  a  young  nationality, 
and  the  cause  of  patriotism,  religion,  literature,  music, 
and  poetry,  in  defending  the  minstrel  race,  St.  Columba 
to  Ireland  would  go  ! 

To  Ireland!  But  then  his  vow!  His  penance  sen- 
tence, that  he  should  never  more  see  Ireland !  How  his 
heart  surged !  O  great  allurement !  O  stern  resolve ! 
O  triumph  of  sacrifice  ! 

Yes ;  he  would  keep  his  vow,  yet  attend  the  convoca- 
tion amidst  those  hills  of  Ireland  which  he  was  never 
more  to  see  !    With  a  vast  array  of  attendant  monks  and 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND,  65 

lay  princes,  he  embarked  for  the  unforgotten  land;  but 
when  the  galleys  came  within  some  leagues  of  the  Irish 
coast,  and  before  it  could  yet  be  sighted,  St.  Columba 
caused  his  eyes  to  be  bandaged  with  a  white  scarfs  and  thus 
blindfolded  was  he  led  on  shore  !  It  is  said  that  when  he 
stepped  upon  the  beach,  and  for  the  first  time  during  so 
many  years  felt  that  he  trod  the  soil  of  Ireland,  he  trem- 
bled from  head  to  foot  with  emotion. 

When  the  great  saint  was  led  blindfold  into  the  con- 
vention, the  whole  assemblage  —  kings,  princes,  prelates, 
and  chieftains  —  rose  and  uncovered  as  reverentially  as  if 
Patrick  himself  had  once  more  appeared  amongst  them.^ 
It  was,  we  may  well  believe,  an  impressive  scene  ;  and  we 
can  well  understand  the  stillness  of  anxious  attention 
with  which  all  waited  to  hear  once  more  the  tones  of  that 
voice  which  many  traditions  class  amongst  the  miraculous 
gifts  of  Columba.  More  than  one  contemporary  writer 
has  described  his  personal  appearance  at  this  time  ;  and 
Montalembert  says :  "  All  testimonies  agree  in  celebrating 
his  manly  beauty,  his  remarkable  height,  his  sweet  and 
sonorous  voice,  the  cordiality  of  his  manner,  the  gracious 
dignity  of  his  deportment  and  person." 

Not  in  vain  did  he  plead  the  causes  he  had  come  to 
advocate.  Long  and  ably  was  the  question  of  the  Scot- 
tish colony  debated.  Some  versions  allege  that  it  was 
amicably  left  to  the  decision  of  Columba,  and  that  his 
award  of  several  independence,  but  fraternal  alliance,  was 
cheerfully  acquiesced  in.  Other  accounts  state  that  King 
Hugh,  finding  argument  prevailing  against  his  views, 
angrily  drawing  his  sword,  declared  he  would  compel  the 
coloiiy  to  submission  by  force  of  arms  ;  whereupon  Colum- 


1  Some  versions  allege  that,  although  the  saint  himself  was  received 
with  reverence,  almost  with  awe,  a  hostile  demonstration  was  designed,  if 
not  attempted,  by  the  king's  party  against  the  Scottic  delegation  who 
accompanied  St.  Columba. 


66 


th:e  stomy  of  Ireland. 


ba,  rising  from  his  seat,  in  a  voice  full  of  solemnity  and 
authority,  exclaimed :  "  In  the  presence  of  this  threat  of 
tyrannic  force,  I  declare  the  cause  ended,  and  proclaim 
the  Scottish  colony  free  for  ever  from  the  yoke ! "  By 
whichever  way,  however,  the  result  was  arrived  at,  the 
independence  of  the  young  Caledonian  nation  was  recog- 
nized and  voted  by  the  convention  through  the  exertions 
of  St.  Columba. 

His  views  in  behalf  of  the  bards  likewise  prevailed. 
He  admitted  the  disorders,  irregularities,  and  abuses 
alleged  against  the  body;  but  he  pleaded,  and  pleaded 
successfully,  for  reform  instead  of  abolition.  Time  has 
vindicated  the  farsighted  policy  of  the  statesman  saint. 
The  national  music  and  poetry  of  Ireland,  thus  purified 
and  consecrated  to  the  service  of  religion  and  country, 
have  ever  since,  through  ages  of  persecution,  been  true  to 
the  holj^  mission  assigned  them  on  that  day  by  Columba. 

The  Dove  of  the  Cell  made  a  comparatively  long  stay 
in  Ireland,  visiting  with  scarf-bound  brow  the  numerous 
monastic  establishments  subject  to  his  rule.  At  length  he 
returned  to  lona,  where  far  into  the  evening  of  life  he 
waited  for  his  summons  to  the  beatific  vision.  The  mira- 
cles he  wrought,  attested  by  evidence  of  weight  to  move 
the  most  callous  sceptic,  the  myriad  wondrous  signs  of 
God's  favour  that  marked  his  daily  acts,  filled  all  the 
nations  with  awe.  The  hour  and  the  manner  of  his  death 
had  long  been  revealed  to  him.  The  precise  time  he  con- 
cealed from  those  about  him  until  close  upon  the  last  day 
of  his  life ;  but  the  manner  of  his  death  he  long  foretold 
to  his  attendants.  "  I  shall  die,"  said  he, without  sickness 
or  hurt;  suddenly,  but  haj^pily,  and  without  accident." 
At  length  one  day,  while  in  his  usual  health,  he  disclosed 
to  Diarmid,  his  ''minister,"  or  regular  attendant  monk, 
that  the  hour  of  his  summons  was  nigh.  A  week  before 
he  had  gone  around  the  island,  taking  leave  of  the  monks 


THE  STOBY  OF  IBELAND. 


67 


and  labourers ;  and  when  all  wept,  he  strove  anxiously  to 
console  them.  Then  he  blessed  the  island  and  the  inhab- 
itants. ''  And  now,''  said  he  to  Diarmid, here  is  a  secret ; 
but  you  must  keep  it  till  I  am  gone.  This  is  Saturday, 
the  day  called  Sabbath,  or  day  of  rest :  and  that  it  will  be 
to  me,  for  it  shall  be  the  last  of  my  laborious  life."  In 
the  evening  he  retired  to  his  cell,  and  began  to  work  for 
the  last  time,  being  then  occupied  in  transcribing  the 
Psalter.  When  he  had  come  to  the  thirty-third  Psalm, 
and  the  verse,  '-^  Liquirentes  autem  Dominum  non  deficient 
'.mini  bono,'' he  stopped  short,  ''/cease  here,"  said  he; 
Baithin  must  do  the  rest." 

Montalembert  thus  describes  for  us  the  "  last  scene  of 
all:"  ''As  soon  as  the  midnight  bell  had  rung  for  the 
matins  of  the  Sunday  festival,  he  rose  and  hastened  before 
the  other  monks  to  the  church,  where  he  knelt  down 
before  the  altar.  Diarmid  followed  him ;  but,  as  the 
church  was  not  yet  lighted,  he  could  only  find  him  by 
groping  and  crying  in  a  plaintive  voice,  '  Where  art  thou, 
my  father?'  He  found  Columba  lying  before  the  altar, 
and,  placing  himself  at  his  side,  raised  the  old  abbot's 
venerable  head  upon  his  knees.  The  whole  community 
soon  arrived  with  lights,  and  wept  as  one  man  at  the  sight 
of  their  dying  father.  Columba  opened  his  eyes  once 
more,  and  turned  them  to  his  children  at  either  side  with 
a  look  full  of  serene  and  radiant  joy.  Then,  with  the  aid 
of  Diarmid,  he  raised  as  best  he  might  his  right  hand  to 
bless  them  all.  His  hand  dropped,  the  last  sigh  came 
from  his  lips,  and  his  face  remained  calm  and  sweet,  like 
that  of  a  man  who  in  his  sleep  had  seen  a  vision  of  heaven." 

Like  the  illustrious  French  publicist  whom  I  have  so 
largely  followed  in  this  sketch,  I  may  say  that  I  have  "  lin- 
gered perhaps  too  long  on  the  grand-  form  of  this  monk 
rising  up  before  us  from  the  midst  of  the  Hebridean  sea." 
But  I  have,  from  the  missionary  saint-army  of  Ireland, 


68 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


selected  this  one  —  this  typical  apostle  —  to  illustrate  the 
characters  that  illumine  one  of  the  most  glorious  pages  of 
our  history.  Many,  indeed,  were  the  "  Columbs "  that 
went  forth  from  Ireland,  as  from  an  ark  of  faith,  bearing 
blessed  olive  branches  to  the  mountain  tops  of  Europe, 
then  slowly  emerging  from  the  flood  of  paganism.  Well 
might  we  dwell  upon  this  period  of  Irish  history !  It  was 
a  bright  and  a  glorious  chapter.  It  was  soon,  alas  !  to  be 
followed  by  one  of  gloom.  Five  hundred  years  of  mili- 
tary fame  and  five  hundred  years  of  Christian  glory  were 
to  be  followed  by  five  hundred  years  of  disorganizing  dis- 
sensions, leading  to  centuries  of  painful  bondage. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  DANES  IN  IRELAND. 

SEs^^^HE  first  dark  cloud  came  from  Scandinavia. 
Towards  the  close  of  the  eighth  century  the 
Danes  made  their  appearance  in  Ireland.  They 
came  at  first  as  transitory  coast  marauders,  land- 
ing, and  sacking  a  neighbouring  town,  church,  or  monas- 
tery. For  this  species  of  warfare  the  Irish  seem  to  have 
been  as  little  prepared  as  any  of  the  other  European  coun- 
tries subjected  to  the  like  scourge,  that  is  to  say,  none  of 
them  but  the  Danes  possessed  at  this  period  of  history  a 
powerful  fleet.  So  when  the  pirates  had  wreaked  their 
will  upon  the  city  or  monastery,  in  order  to  plunder  which 
they  had  landed,  they  simply  reembarked  and  sailed  away 
comparatively  safe  from  molestation. 

At  length  it  seems  to  have  occurred  to  the  professional 
pirates,  that  in  place  of  making  periodical  dashes  on  the 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


69 


Irish  coast,  they  might  secure  a  permanent  footing  there- 
upon, and  so  prepare  the  way  for  eventually  subjugating 
the  entire  kingdom.  Accordingly,  they  came  in  force  and 
possessed  themselves  of  several  spots  favourably  placed 
for  such  purposes  as  theirs  —  sites  for  fortified  maritime 
cities  on  estuaries  affording  good  shelter  for  their  fleets, 
viz. :  Dublin,  Drogheda,  Waterford,  Limerick,  Wexford, 
etc. 

In  the  fourth  year  of  Nial  the  Third  (about  the  year 
A.D.  840),  there  arrived  a  monster  fleet  of  these  fierce 
and  ruthless  savages,  under  the  command  of  Turgesius. 
They  poured  into  the  country  and  carried  all  before  them. 
For  nearly  seven  years,  Turgesius  exercised  over  a  con- 
siderable district  kingly  authority,  and  the  Irish  groaned 
under  the  horrors  of  oppression  the  most  heartless  and 
brutal.  Turgesius  converted  the  cathedral  at  Clonmac- 
noise  into  a  palace  for  his  own  use,  and  from  the  high  altar, 
used  as  a  throne,  the  fierce  idolater  gave  forth  his  tyran- 
nical commands.  Meantime  the  Christian  faith  was  pro- 
scribed, the  Christian  shrines  were  plundered,  the  gold  and 
jewels  were  kept  by  the  spoilers,  but  the  holy  relics  were 
sacrilegiously  given  to  destruction.  The  schools  were 
dispersed,  the  books  and  chronicles  burned,  and  finally 
the  "successor  of  Patrick,"  the  Archbishop  of  Armagh, 
was  seized,  the  cathedral  sacked,  and  the  holy  prelate 
brought  a  captive  into  the  Danish  stronghold. 

But  a  day  of  retribution  was  at  hand.  The  divided  and 
disorganized  tribes  were  being  bitterly  taught  the  neces- 
sity of  union.  These  latest  outrages  were  too  much  for 
Christian  Irish  flesh  and  blood  to  bear.  Concerting  their 
measures,  the  people  simultaneously  rose  on  their  oppress- 
ors. Turgesius  was  seized  and  put  to  death  by  Malachy, 
prince  of  Westmeath,  while  the  Irish  Ard-Ri,  Nial  the 
Third,  at  length  able  to  rally  a  powerful  army  against  the 
invaders,  swooped  down  upon  them  from  the  north,  and 


70 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


drove  them  panic-stricken  to  their  maritime  fortresses, 
their  track  marked  with  slaughter.  Nial  seems  to  have 
been  a  really  noble  character,  and  the  circumstances  under 
which  he  met  his  death,  sudden  and  calamitous,  in  the 
very  midst  of  his  victorious  career,  afford  ample  illustra- 
tion of  the  fact.  His  army  had  halted  on  the  banks  of 
the  Callan  River,  at  the  moment  swollen  by  heavy  rains. 
One  of  the  royal  domestics  or  attendants,  a  common 
Giolla^  in  endeavouring  to  ford  the  river  for  some  purpose, 
was  swept  from  his  feet  and  carried  off  by  the  flood.  The 
monarch,  who  happened  to  be  looking  on,  cried  aloud  to 
his  guards  to  succour  the  drowning  man,  but  quicker  than 
any  other  he  himself  plunged  into  the  torrent.  He  never 
rose  again.  The  brave  Mai,  who  had  a  hundred  times 
faced  death  in  the  midst  of  reddened  spears,  perished  in 
his  effort  to  save  the  life  of  one  of  the  humblest  of  his 
followers ! 

The  power  of  the  Danes  was  broken,  but  they  still  clung 
to  the  seaports,  where  either  they  were  able  to  defy  efforts 
at  expulsion,  or  else  obtained  permission  to  remain  by 
paying  heavy  tribute  to  the  Irish  sovereign.  It  is^  clear 
enough  that  the  presence  of  the  Danes  came,  in  course  of 
time,  to  be  regarded  as  useful  and  profitable  by  the  Irish, 
so  long  as  they  did  not  refuse  tribute  to  the  native  power. 
The  history  of  the  succeeding  centuries  accordingly  — 
the  period  of  the  Danish  struggle  —  exhibits  a  singular 
spectacle.  The  Danes  made  themselves  fully  at  home  in 
the  great  maritime  cities,  which  they  may  be  said  to  have 
founded,  and  which  their  commerce  certainly  raised  to  im- 
portance. The  Irish  princes  made  alliances  betimes  with 
them,  and  Danes  frequently  fought  on  opposite  sides  in 
the  internecine  conflicts  of  the  Irish  princes.  Occasionally 
seizing  a  favourable  opportunity  —  (when  the  Irish  were 
particularly  weakened  by  internal  feud,  and  when  a  power- 
ful reinforcement  for  themselves  arrived  from  Scandi- 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


71 


navia)  —  they  would  make  a  fierce  endeavour  to  extend 
their  dominion  on  Irish  soil.  These  efforts  were  mostly 
successful  for  a  time,  owiug  to  the  absence  of  a  strong 
centralized  authority  amongst  the  Irish ;  but  eventually  the 
Irish,  by  putting  forth  their  native  valour,  and  even  par- 
tially combining  for  the  time,  were  always  able  to  crush 
them. 

Yet  it  is  evident  that  during  the  three  hundred  years 
over  which  this  Danish  struggle  spreads,  the  Irish  nation 
was  undergoing  disintegration  an-d  demoralization.  To- 
wards the  middle  of  the  period,  the  Danes  became  converted 
to  Christianity ;  but  their  coarse  and  fierce  barbarism  re- 
mained long  after,  and  it  is  evident  that  contact  with  such 
elements,  and  increasing  political  disruption  amongst 
themselves,  had  a  fatal  effect  on  the  Irish.  The}"  abso- 
lutely retrograded  in  learning  and  civilization  during  this 
time,  and  contracted  some  of  the  worst  vices  that  could 
pave  the  waj^  for  the  fate  that  a  few  centuries  more  were 
to  bring  upon  them. 

National  pride  may  vainly  seek  to  ignore  or  hide  the 
great  truth  here  displayed.  During  the  three  hundred 
years  that  preceded  the  Anglo-Norman  invasion,  the  Irish 
princes  appeared  to  be  given  over  to  a  madness  marking 
them  for  destruction  I  At  a  time  when  consolidation  of 
national  authority  was  becoming  the  rule  all  over  Europe, 
and  was  becoming  so  necessary  for  them,  they  were  going 
into  the  other  extreme.  As  the  general  rule,  each  ono 
sought  only  his  personal  or  family  ambition  or  aggrandise- 
ment, and  strove  for  it  lawlessly  and  violently.  Frequent- 
ly when  the  Ard-Ri  of  Erinn  was  nobly  grappling  with  the 
Danish  foe,  and  was  on  the  point  of  finally  expelling  the 
foreigner,  a  subordinate  prince  would  seize  what  seemed  to 
him  the  golden  opportunity  for  throwing  off  the  authority 
of  the  chief  king,  or  for  treacherously  endeavouring  to 
grasp  it  himself!    During  the  whole  time  —  three  cen- 


72 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


turies  —  there  was  scarcely  a  single  reign  in  which  the 
Ard-Ri  did  not  find  occupation  for  his  arms  as  constantly 
in  compelling  the  submission  of  the  subordinate  native 
princes,  as  in  combating  the  Scandinavian  foe. 

Religion  itself  suffered  in  this  national  declension.  In 
these  centuries  we  find  professedly  Christian  Irish  kings 
themselves  as  ruthless  destro3^ers  of  churches  and  schools 
as  the  pagan  Danes  of  a  few  years  previous.  The  titles 
of  the  Irish  episcopacy  were  sometimes  seized  by  lay 
princes  for  the  sake  of  the  revenues  attached  to  them; 
the  spiritual  functions  of  the  offices,  however,  being  per- 
formed by  ecclesiastics  meanwhile.  In  fine,  the  Irish 
national  character  in  those  centuries  is  to  be  censured,  not 
admired.  It  would  seem  as  if  by  adding  sacrilege  and 
war  upon  religion  and  on  learning  to  political  suicide  and 
a  fatal  frenzy  of  factiousness,  the  Irish  princes  of  that 
period  were  doing  their  best  and  their  worst  to  shame  the 
glories  of  their  nation  in  the  preceding  thousand  years, 
and  to  draw  down  upon  their  country  the  terrible  chas- 
tisement that  eventually  befel  it,  a  chastisement  which 
never  could  have  befallen  it,  but  for  the  state  of  things 
I  am  here  pointing  out. 

Yet  was  this  gloomy  period  lit  up  by  some  brilliant 
flashes  of  glory,  the  brightest,  if  not  the  last,  being  that 
which  surrounds  the  name  of  Clontarf,  where  the  power 
of  the  Danes  in  Ireland  was  crushed  totally  and  for  ever. 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


73 


CHAPTER  XI. 

HOW  "BRIAN  OF  THE  TEIBUTE "  BECAME  A  HIGH  KING 
OF  ERINN. 

EW  historical  names  are  more  widely  known 
amongst  Irishmen  than  that  of  Brian  the  First 
—  "  Brian  Boru,  or  Borumha ;  "  ^  and  the  story 
of  his  life  is  a  necessary  and  an  interesting  intro- 
duction to  an  account  of  the  battle  of  Clontarf. 

About  the  middle  of  the  tenth  century  the  crown  of 
Munster  was  worn  by  Mahon,  son  of  Ceineidi  (pr.  Ken- 
nedy), a  prince  of  the  Dalcassian  family.'  Mahon  had  a 
young  brother,  Brian,  and  by  all  testimony  the  affection 
which  existed  between  the  brothers  was  something  touch- 
ing. Mahon,  who  was  a  noble  character  —  "as  a  prince 
and  captain  in  every  way  worthy  of  his  inheritance  "  — 
was  accompanied  in  all  his  expeditions,  and  from  an  early 
age,  by  Brian,  to  whom  he  acted  not  only  as  a  brother 
and  prince,  but  as  a  military  preceptor.  After  a  brilliant 
career,  Mahon  fell  by  a  deed  of  deadly  treacher}^  A  rival 
prince  of  South  Munster  —  "  MoUoy,  son  of  Bran,  Lord 
of  Desmond" — whom  he  had  vanquished,  proposed  to 
meet  him  in  friendly  conference  at  the  house  of  Donovan, 
an  Eugenian  chief.  The  safety  of  each  person  was  guar- 
anteed by  the  Bishop  of  Cork,  who  acted  as  mediator 
between  them.  Mahon,  chivalrous  and  unsuspecting, 
went  unattended  and  unarmed  to  the  conference.  He  was 
seized  by  an  armed  band  of  Donovan's  men,  who  handed 
him  over  to  a  party  of  MoUoy's  retainers,  by  whom  he 
was  put  to  death.    He  had  with  him,  as  the  sacred  and 


1  That  is,  "  Brian  of  the  Tribute." 


74 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


(as  it  ought  to  have  been)  inviolable  "safe-conduct"  on 
the  faith  of  which  he  had  trusted  himself  into  the  power 
of  his  foes,  a  copy  of  the  Gospels  written  by  the  hand  of 
St.  Barre.  As  the  assassins  drew  their  swords  upon  him, 
Mahon  snatched  up  the  sacred  scroll,  and  held  it  on  his 
breast,  as  if  he  could  not  credit  that  a  murderous  hand 
would  dare  to  wound  him  through  such  a  shield !  But 
the  murderers  plunged  their  swords  into  his  heart,  piercing 
right  through  the  vellum,  which  became  all  stained  and 
matted  with  his  blood.  Two  priests  had,  horror-stricken, 
witnessed  the  outrage.  They  caught  up  the  blood-stained 
Gospels  and  fled  to  the  bishop,  spreading  through  the 
country  as  they  went  the  dreadful  news  which  they  bore. 
The  venerable  successor  of  St.  Fin  Bar,  we  are  told,  wept 
bitterly  and  uttered  a  prophecy  concerning  the  fate  of  the 
murderers,  which  was  soon  and  remarkably  fulfilled. 

"  When  the  news  of  his  noble-hearted  brother's  death 
was  brought  to  Brian  at  Kincora,  he  was  seized  with  the 
most  violent  grief.  His  favourite  harp  was  taken  down, 
and  he  sang  the  death-song  of  Mahon,  recounting  all  the 
glorious  actions  of  his  life.  His  anger  flashed  out  through 
his  tears  as  he  wildly  chanted  — 

^  My  heart  shall  burst  within  my  breast, 
Unless  I  avenge  this  great  king. 
They  shall  forfeit  life  for  this  foul  deed, 
Or  I  must  perish  by  a  violent  death.' 

"  But  the  climax  of  his  grief  was,  that  Mahon  '  had  not 
fallen  behind  the  shelter  of  his  shield,  rather  than  trust 
the  treacherous  word  of  Donovan."  ^ 

A  ''Bard  of  Thomond "  in  our  own  day  —  one  not 
unworthy  of  his  proud  pseudonym  —  Mr.  M.  Hogan  of 
Limerick,  has  supplied  the  following  very  beautiful  ver- 
sion of  ''  Brian's  Lament  for  King  Mahon  :  "  — 


1  M'Gee, 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


75 


"  Lament,  O  Dalcassians  !  the  Eagle  of  Cashel  is  dead ! 
The  grandeur,  the  glory,  the  joy  of  her  palace  is  fled; 
Your  strength  in  the  battle  —  your  bulwark  of  valour  is  low, 
But  the  fire  of  your  vengeance  will  fall  on  the  murderous  foe ! 

"  His  country  was  mighty  —  his  people  were  blest  in  his  reign. 
But  the  ray  of  his  glory  shall  never  shine  on  them  again  ; 
Like  the  beauty  of  summer  his  presence  gave  joy  to  our  souls. 
When  bards  sung  his  deeds  at  the  banquet  of  bright  golden  bowls. 

"  Ye  maids  of  Temora,  whose  rich  garments  sweep  the  green  plain  ! 
Ye  chiefs  of  the  Sunburst,  the  terror  and  scourge  of  the  Dane ! 
Ye  gray-haired  Ard-Fileas !  whose  songs  fire  the  blood  of  the  brave  ! 
Oh !  weep,  for  your  Sun-star  is  quenched  in  the  night  of  the  grave. 

"  He  clad  you  with  honours  —  he  filled  your  high  hearts  with  delight. 
In  the  midst  of  your  councils  he  beamed  in  his  wisdom  and  might ; 
Grold,  silver,  and  jewels  were  only  as  dust  in  his  hand, 
But  his  sword  like  a  lightning-flash  blasted  the  foes  of  his  land. 

"  Oh !  Mahon,  my  brother !  we've  conquered  and  marched  side  by  side, 
And  thou  wert  to  the  love  of  my  soul  as  a  beautiful  bride ; 
In  the  battle,  the  banquet,  the  council,  the  chase  and  the  throne. 
Our  beings  were  blended  —  our  spirits  were  filled  with  one  tone. 

"Oh !  Mahon,  my  brother!  thou  'st  died  like  the  hind  of  the  wood. 
The  hands  of  assassins  were  red  with  thy  pure  noble  blood ; 
And  I  was  not  near,  my  beloved,  when  thpu  wast  o'erpower'd. 
To  steep  in  their  hearts'  blood  the  steel  of  my  blue-beaming  sword. 

"  I  stood  by  the  dark  misty  river  at  eve  dim  and  gray, 
And  I  heard  the  death-cry  of  the  spirit  of  gloomy  Craghlea ; 
She  repeated  thy  name  in  her  caoine  of  desolate  woe. 
Then  I  knew  that  the  Beauty  and  Joy  of  Clan  Tail  was  laid  low. 

"  All  day  and  all  night  one  dark  vigil  of  sorrow^  I  keep, 
My  spirit  is  bleeding  with  wounds  that  are  many  and  deep ; 
My  banquet  is  anguish,  tears,  groaning,  and  wringing  of  hands, 
In  madness  lamenting  my  prince  of  the  gold-hilted  brands. 

"  O  God !  give  me  patience  to  bear  the  affliction  I  feel, 
But  for  every  hot  tear  a  red  blood-drop  shall  blush  on  my  steel ; 
For  every  deep  pang  which  my  grief -stricken  spirit  has  known, 
A  thousand  death-wounds  in  the  day  pf  revenge  shall  atone." 


76 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


And  he  smote  the  murderers  of  his  brother  with  a  swift 
and  terrible  vengeance.  Mustering  his  Dalcassian  legions, 
which  so  often  with  Mahon  he  had  led  to  victory,  he  set 
forth  upon  the  task  of  retribution.  His  first  effort,  the 
old  records  tell  us,  was  directed  against  the  Danes  of 
Limerick,  who  were  Donovan's  allies,  and  he  slew  Ivor, 
their  king,  and  his  two  sons.  Foreseeing  their  fate,  they 
had  fled  before  him,  and  had  taken  refuge  in  "  Scattery's 
Holy  Isle."  But  Brian  slew  them  even  "between  the 
horns  of  the  altar."  Next  came  the  turn  of  Donovan,  who 
had  meantime  hastily  gathered  to  his  aid  the  Danes  of 
South  Munster.  But  "  Brian,"  say  the  Annals  of  Innis- 
fallen,  "  gave  them  battle,  and  Auliffe  and  his  Danes,  ^nd 
Donovan  and  his  allies,  were  all  cut  off."  Of  all  guilty 
in  the  murder  of  the  brother  whom  he  so  loved,  there  now 
remained  but  one  —  the  principal,  Molloy,  son  of  Bran. 
After  the  fashion  in  those  times,  Brian  sent  Molloy  a 
formal  summons  or  citation  to  meet  him  in  battle  until  the 
terrible  issue  between  them  should  be  settled.  To  this 
Molloy  responded  by  confederating  all  the  Irish  and  Danes 
of  South  Munster  whom  he  could  rally,  for  yet  another 
encounter  with  the  avenging  Dalcassian.  But  the  curse 
of  the  Comharba  of  St.  Barre  was  upon  the  murderers  of 
Mahon,  and  the  might  of  a  passionate  vengeance  was  in 
Brian's  arm.  Again  he  was  victorious.  The  confederated 
Danes  and  Irish  were  overthrown  v/ith  great  slaughter ; 
Brian's  son,  Morrogh,  then  a  mere  lad,  "killing  the  mur- 
derer of  his  uncle  Mahon  with  his  own  hand."  "  Molloy 
was  buried  on  the  north  side  of  the  mountain  where  Mahon 
had  been  murdered  and  interred :  on  Mahon  the  sun  shone 
full  and  fair ;  but  on  the  grave  of  his  assassin  the  black 
shadow  of  the  northern  sky  rested  always.  Such  was  the 
tradition  which  all  Munster  piously  believed.  After  this 
victory  Brian  was  universally  acknowledged  king  of 
Munster,  and  until  Ard-Ri  Malachy  won  the  battle  of 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


77 


Tara,  was  justly  considered  the  first  Irish  captain  of  liis 
age."  1 

This  was  the  opening  chapter  of  Brian's  career.  Thence- 
forth his  military  reputation  and  his  political  influence 
are  found  extending  far  beyond  the  confines  of  Munster. 

The  supreme  crown  of  Ireland  at  this  time  was  worn 
by  a  brave  and  enlightened  sovereign,  Malachy  the  Sec- 
ond, or  Malachy  Mor.  He  exhibited  rare  qualities  of 
statesmanship,  patriotism,  and  valour,  in  his  vigorous 
efforts  against  the  Danes.  On  the  occasion  of  one  of  his 
most  signal  victories  over  them,  he  himself  engaged  in 
combat  two  Danish  princes,  overcame  and  slew  both  of 
them,  taking  from  off  the  neck  of  one  a  massive  collar  of 
gold,  and  from  the  grasp  of  the  other  a  jewel-hilted  sword, 
which  he  himself  thenceforward  wore  as  trophies.  To  this 
monarch,  and  to  the  incident  here  n^entioned,  Moore  al-  • 
ludes  in  his  well-known  lines  :  — 

"  Let  Erin  remember  the  days  of  old, 
Ere  her  faithless  sons  betrayed  her, 
WTien  Malachi  wore  the  collar  of  gold 
Whicli  lie  won  from  her  proud  invuder.''^ 

Whether  it  was  that  Ard-Ri  Malachy  began  to  fear  the 
increasing  and  almost  overshadowing  power  and  influence 
of  his  southern  tributary,  or  that  Brian  had  in  his  pride 
of  strength  refused  to  own  his  tributary  position,  it  seems 
impossible  to  tell;  but  unfortunately  for  Ireland  the  brave 
and  wise  Ard-Ri  Malachy,  and  the  not  less  brave  and  wise 
tributary  Brian,  became  embroiled  in  a  bitter  war,  the  re- 
mote but  indubitable  consequences  of  which  most  power- 
fully and  calamitously  affected  the  future  destinies  of 
Ireland.  For  nearly  twenty  years  the  struggle  between 
them  continued.  Any  adversary  less  able  than  Malachy 
would  have  been  quickly  compelled  to  succumb  to  ability 


1  M*Gee. 


78 


THE  STOnr  OF  IRELAND. 


such  as  Brian's  ;  and  it  may  on  the  other  hand  be  said  that 
it  was  only  a  man  of  Brian's  marvellous  powers  whom 
Malachy  could  not  effectively  crush  in  as  many  months. 
Two  such  men  united  could  accomplish  anything  with 
Ireland ;  and  when  they  eventually  did  unite,  they  abso- 
lutely swept  the  Danes  into  their  walled  and  fortified 
cities,  from  whence  they  had  begun  once  more  to  overrun 
the  countr}^  during  the  distractions  of  the  struggle  between 
Malachy  and  Brian.  During  the  short  peace  or  truce 
between  himself  and  the  Ard-Ri,  Brian  —  who  was  a  saga- 
cious diplomatist  as  well  as  great  general  —  seems  to  have 
attached  to  his  interest  nearly  all  the  tributary  kings,  and 
subsequently  even  the  Danish  princes  ;  so  that  it  was  easy 
to  see  that  already  his  eye  began  to  glance  at  the  supreme 
crown.  Malachy  saw  it  all,  and  when  the  decisive  moment 
at  last  arrived,  and  Brian,  playing  Csesar,  ''crossed  the 
Rubicon,"  the  now  only  titular  Ard-Ri  made  a  gallant  but 
brief  defence  against  the  ambitious  usurper  —  for  such 
Brian  was  on  the  occasion.  After  this  short  effort  Malachy 
yielded  with  dignity  and  calmness  to  the  inevitable,  and 
gave  up  the  monarchy  of  Erinn  to  Brian.  The  abdicated 
sovereign  thenceforward  served  under  his  victorious  rival 
as  a  subordinate,  with  a  readiness  and  fidelity  which  showed 
him  to  be  Brian's  superior  at  least  in  unselfish  patriotism 
and  in  readiness  to  sacrifice  personal  pride  and  personal 
rights  to  the  public  interests  of  his  country. 

Brian,  now  no  longer  king  of  Munster,  but  Ard-Ri  of 
Erinn,  found  his  ambition  fully  crowned.  The  power  and 
authority  to  which  he  had  thus  attained,  he  wielded  with 
a  wisdom,  a  sagacity,  a  firmness,  and  a  success  that  made 
his  reign  as  Ard-Ri,  while  it  lasted,  one  of  almost  unsur- 
passed glorj^,  prosperity,  and  happiness  for  Ireland.  Yet 
the  student  of  Irish  history  finds  no  fact  more  indelibly 
marked  on  his  mind  by  the  thoughtful  study  of  the  great 
page  before  him,  than  this,  namely,  that,  glorious  as  was 


TBE  STORY  OF  IRELAND.  79 

Brian's  reign  —  brave,  generous,  noble,  pious,  learned, 
accomplished,  politic,  and  wise,  as  he  is  confessed  on  all 
hands  to  have  been  —  his  seizure  of  the  supreme  national 
crown  was  a  calamity  for  Ireland.  Or  rather,  perhaps,  it 
would  be  more  correct  and  more  just  to  say,  that  having 
reference  not  singly  to  his  ambitious  seizure  of  the  national 
crown,  but  also  to  the  loss  in  one  day  of  his  own  life  and 
the  lives  of  his  next  heirs  (both  son  and  grandson),  the 
event  resulted  calamitously  for  Ireland.  For  ''it  threw 
open  the  sovereignty  to  every  great  family  as  a  prize  to 
be  won  by  policy  or  force,  and  no  longer  an  inheritance 
to  be  determined  by  law  and  usage.  The  consequences 
were  what  might'  have  been  expected.  After  his  death 
the  O'Connors  of  the  West  competed  with  both  O'Neills 
and  O'Briens  for  supremacy,  and  a  chronic  civil  war  pre- 
pared the  way  for  Strongboiu  and  the  Normans,  The  term 
*  kings  with  opposition '  is  applied  to  nearly  all  who  reigned 
between  King  Brian's  time  and  that  of  Roderick  O'Connor  " 
(the  Norman  invasion),  "  meaning  thereby  kings  who  were 
unable  to  secure  general  obedience  to  their  administration 
of  affairs."  1 

Brian,  however,  in  all  probability,  as  the  historian  I  have 
quoted  pleads  on  his  behalf,  might  have  been  moved  by 
the  great  and  statesmanlike  scheme  of  consolidating  and 
fusing  Ireland  into  one  kingdom ;  gradually  repressing  in- 
dividuality in  the  subordinate  principalities,  and  laying  the 
firm  foundation  of  an  enduring  and  compact  monarchical 
state,  of  which  his  own  posterity  would  be  the  sovereigns. 
"  For  Morrogh,  his  first-born,  and  for  Morrogh's  descend- 
ants he  hoped  to  found  an  hereditary  kingship  after  the 
type  universally  copied  throughout  Christendom.  He  was 
not  ignorant  of  what  Alfred  had  done  for  England,  Har- 
old for  Norway,  Charlemagne  for  France,  and  Otho  for 


1  M'Gee. 


80 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


Germany."  If  any  such  design  really  inspired  Brian's 
course,  it  was  a  grandly  useful  one,  comprehensive,  and 
truly  national.  Its  realization  was  just  what  Ireland 
wanted  at  that  period  of  her  history.  But  its  existence 
in  Brian's  mind  is  a  most  fanciful  theory.  He  was  him- 
self, while  a  tributary  king,  no  wondrous  friend  or  helper 
of  centralized  authority.  He  pushed  from  the  throne  a 
wise  and  worthy  monarch.  He  grasped  at  the  sceptre,  not 
in  a  reign  of  anarchy,  but  in  a  period  of  comparative 
order,  authority,  and  tranquillity. 

Be  that  as  it  may,  certain  it  is  that  Brian  was  "  every 
inch  a  king."  Neither  on  the  Irish  throne,  nor  on  that  of 
any  other  kingdom,  did  sovereign  ever  sit  more  splendidly 
qualified  to  rule ;  and  Ireland  had  not  for  some  centuries 
known  such  a  glorious  and  prosperous,  peaceful,  and  happy 
time  as  the  five  years  preceding  Brian's  death.  He  caused 
his  authority  to  be  not  only  unquestioned,  but  obeyed  and 
respected,  in  every  corner  of  the  land.  So  justly  were  the 
laws  administered  in  his  name,  and  so  loyally  obeyed 
throughout  the  kingdom,  that  the  bards  relate  a  rather 
fanciful  story  of  a  young  and  exquisitely  beautiful  lady, 
making,  without  the  slightest  apprehension  of  violence  or 
insult,  and  in  perfect  safetj^,  a  tour  of  the  island  on  foot, 
alone  and  unprotected,  though  bearing  about  her  the  most 
costly  jewels  and  ornaments  of  gold !  A  national  min- 
strel of  our  own  times  has  celebrated  this  illustration  of 
the  tranquillity  of  Brian's  reign  in  the  well-known  poem, 
"  Rich  and  rare  were  the  gems  she  wore." 


THE  STORY  OF  IB  EL  AND. 


81 


CHAPTEE  XII. 

HOW  A  DARK  THUNDER-CLOUD   GATHERED  OVER 
IRELAND. 

BOUT  this  time  the  Danish  power  all  over  Europe 
had  made  considerable  advances.  In  France  it 
had  fastened  itself  upon  Normandy,  and  in  Eng- 
land it  had  once  more  become  victorious,  the 
Danish  prince,  Sweyne,  having  been  proclaimed  king  of 
England  in  1013,  though  it  was  not  until  the  time  of  his 
successor,  Canute,  tliat  the  Danish  line  were  undisputed 
monarchs  of  England.  All  these  triumphs  made  them 
turn  their  attention  the  more  earnestly  to  Ireland,  which 
they  so  often  and  so  desperately,  yet  so  vainly,  sought 
to  win.  At  length  the  Danes  of  this  country  —  holding 
several  of  the  large  seaport  cities,  but  yielding  tribute 
to  the  Irish  monarch  —  seem  to  have  been  roused  to  the 
design  of  rallying  all  the  might  of  the  Scanian  race  for 
one  gigantic  and  supreme  effort  to  conquer  the  kingdom : 
for  it  was  a  reflection  hard  for  northmen  to  endure,  that 
they  who  had  conquered  England  almost  as  often  as  they 
tried,  who  had  now  placed  a  Danish  sovereign  on  the  Eng- 
lish tlirone,  and  had  established  a  Danish  dukedom  of 
Normandy  in  France,  had  never  yet  been  able  to  bring  this 
dearly  coveted  western  isle  into  subjection,  and  had  never 
once  given  a  monarch  to  its  line  of  kings.  Coincidently 
with  the  victories  of  Sweyne  in  England,  several  Danish 
expeditions  appeared  upon  tlie  Irish  coast :  now  at  Cork 
in  the  south,  now  at  Lough  Foyle  in  the  north  ;  but  these 
were  promptly  met  and  repelled  by  the  vigour  of  the  Ard- 
Ri,  or  of  the  local  princes.  These  forays,  however,  though 
serious  and  dangerous  enough,  were  but  the  prelude  to 


82 


The  story  of  IRELAlStD. 


the  forthcoming  grand  assault,  or  as  it  has  been  aptly 
styled,  "  the  last  field-day  of  Christianity  and  Paganism 
on  Irish  soil."  - 

A  taunt  thrown  out  over  a  game  of  chess  at  Kincora 
is  said  to  have  hastened  this  memorable  day.  Maelmurra, 
prince  of  Leinster,  playing  or  advising  on  the  game,  made 
or  recommended  a  false  move,  upon  which  Morrogh,  son 
of  Brian,  observed  it  was  no  wonder  his  friends  the  Danes 
(to  whom  he  owed  his  elevation)  were  beaten  at  Glen- 
mana,  if  he  gave  them  advice  like  that.  Maelmurra, 
highly  incensed  by  the  allusion  —  all  the  more  severe  for 
its  bitter  truth  —  arose,  ordered  his  horse,  and  rode  away 
in  haste.  Brian,  when  he  heard  it,  dispatched  a  messenger 
after  the  indignant  guest,  begging  him  to  return ;  but 
Maelmurra  was  not  to  be  pacified,  and  refused.  We  next 
hear  of  him  as  concerting  with  certain  Danish  agents, 
always  open  to  such  negotiations,  those  measures  which 
led  to  the  great  invasion  of  the  year  1014,  in  which  the 
whole  Scanian  race,  from  Anglesea  and  Man,  north  to 
Norway,  bore  an  active  share. 

"  These  agents  passing  over  to  England  and  Man,  among 
the  Scottish  isles,  and  even  to  the  Baltic,  followed  up  the 
design  of  an  invasion  on  a  gigantic  scale.  Suibne,  earl  of 
Man,  entered  warmly  into  this  conspiracy,  aud  sent  '  the 
war-arrow '  through  all  those  '  out-islands '  which  obeyed 
him  as  lord.  .  A  yet  more  formidable  potentate,  Sigurd, 
of  the  Orkneys,  next  joined  the  league.  He  was  the  four- 
teenth earl  of  Orkney,  of  Norse  origin,  and  his  power  was 
at  this  period  a  balance  to  that  of  his  nearest  neighbour, 
the  king  of  Scots.  He  had  ruled  since  the  year  996,  not 
only  over  the  Orkneys,  Shetland,  and  Northern  Hebrides, 
but  the  coasts  of  Caithness  and  Sutherland,  and  even  Ross 
and  Moray  rendered  him  homage  and  tribute.  Eight 
years  before  the  battle  of  Clontarf,  Malcolm  the  Second  of 
Scotland  had  been  fain  to  purchase  his  alliance  by  giving 


THE  STOEY  OF  IRELAND. 


83 


him  his  daughter  in  marriage,  and  the  kings  of  Denmark 
and  Norway  treated  with  him  on  equal  terms.  The  hun- 
dred inhabited  isles  which  lie  between  Yell  and  Man, — 
isles  which  after  their  conversion  contained  'three  hun- 
dred churches  and  chapels '  —  sent  in  their  contingents,  to 
swell  the  following  of  the  renowned  Earl  Sigurd.  As  his 
fleet  bore  southward  from  Kirkwall,  it  swept  the  subject 
coast  of  Scotland,  and  gathered  from  every  lough  its  gal- 
leys and  its  fighting-men.  The  rendezvous  was  the  Isle 
of  Man,  where  Suibne  had  placed  his  own  forces,  under 
the  command  of  Brodar,  or  Broderick,  a  famous  leader 
against  the  Britons  of  Wales  and  Cornwall.  In  conjunc- 
tion with  Sigurd,  the  Manxmen  sailed  over  to  Ireland, 
where  they  were  joined,  in  the  Liffey,  by  Earl  Canuteson, 
prince  of  Denmark,  at  the  head  of  fourteen  hundred 
champions  clad  in  armour.  Sitric  of  Dublin  stood,  or 
affected  to  stand,  neutral  in  these  preparations,  but  Mael- 
murra  of  Leinster  had  mustered  all  the  forces  Le  could 
command  for  such  an  expedition."  ^ 

Here  was  a  mighty  thunder-storm  gathering  over  and 
around  Ireland  !  Never  before  was  an  effort  of  such  mag- 
nitude made  for  the  conquest  of  the  island.  Never  before 
had  the  Danish  power  so  palpably  put  forth  its  utmost 
strength,  and  never  hitherto  had  it  put  forth  such  strength 
in  vain.  This  was  the  supreme  moment  for  Ireland  to 
show  what  she  could  do  when  united  in  self-defence 
against  a  foreign  invader.  Here  were  the  unconquered 
Northmen,  the  scourge  and  terror  of  Europe,  the  con- 
querors of  Britain,  Normandy,  Anglesea,  Orkney,  and 
Man,  now  concentrating  the  might  of  their  whole  race, 
from  fiord  and  haven,  from  the  Orkneys  to  the  Scilly 
Isles,  to  burst  in  an  overwhelming  billow  upon  Ireland ! 
If  before  a  far  less  formidable  assault  England  went  down, 


1  M'Gee. 


84 


THE  STOBY  OF  IB  ELAND. 


dare  Ireland  hope  now  to  meet  and  withstand  this  tremen- 
dous shock  ?  In  truth,  it  seemed  a  hard  chance.  It  was 
a  trial-hour  for  the  men  of  Erinn.  And  gloriously  did 
they  meet  it !  Never  for  an  instant  were  they  daunted 
by  the  tidings  of  the  extensive  and  mighty  preparations 
going  forward ;  for  the  news  filled  Europe,  and  a  hundred 
harbours  in  Norway,  Denmark,  France,  England,  and  the 
Channel  Isles  resounded  day  and  night  with  the  bustle 
preparatory  for  the  coming  war.  Brian  was  fully  equal 
to  the  emergency.  He  resolved  to  meet  force  by  force, 
combination  by  combination,  preparation  by  preparation ; 
to  defy  the  foe,  and  let  them  see  what  Irishmen  could 
do."  His  efforts  were  nobly  seconded  by  the  zeal  of  all 
the  tributary  princes  (with  barely  a  few  exceptions),  but 
most  nobly  of  all  by  the  deposed  Malachy,  whose  conduct 
upon  this  occasion  alone  would  entitle  him  to  a  proud 
place  in  the  annals  of  Ireland.  In  one  of  the  preliminary 
expeditions  of  the  Danes  a  few  years  previously,  he  de- 
tected more  quickly  than  Brian  the  seriousness  of  the  work 
going  forward  ;  he  sent  word  hurriedly  to  Kincora  that 
the  Danes,  who  had  landed  near  Dublin,  were  marching 
inward,  and  entreated  of  Brian  to  hasten  to  check  them 
promptly.  The  Ard-Ri,  however,  was  at  that  time  abso- 
lutely incredulous  that  anything  more  serious  than  a 
paltry  foray  was  designed ;  and  he  refused,  it  is  said,  to 
lend  any  assistance  to  the  local  prince.  But  Malachy  had 
a  truer  conception  of  the  gravity  of  the  case.  He  himself 
marched  to  meet  the  invaders,  and  in  a  battle  which  en- 
sued, routed  them,  losing,  however,  in  the  hour  of  victory 
his  son  Flann.  This  engagement  awakened  Brian  to  a 
sense  of  the  danger  at  hand.  He  quickly  dispatched  an 
auxiliary  force,  under  his  son  Morrogh,  to  Malachy's  aid ; 
but  the  Danes,  driven  into  their  walled  city  of  Dublin  by 
Malachy,  did  not  venture  out ;  and  so  the  Dalcassian  force 
returned  southwards,  devastating  the  territory  of  the 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND.  86 

traitor,  Maelmurra,  of  Leinster,  whose  perfidy  was  now 
openly  proclaimed. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE  GLORIOUS  DAY  OF  CLONTARF. 

RIAN  soon  became  fully  aware  of  the  scheme  at 
which  the  Danes  all  over  Europe  were  labouring, 
and  of  the  terrible  trial  approaching  for  Ireland. 
Through  all  the  autumn  of  that  year,  1013,  and 
the  spring  months  of  the  year  following,  the  two  powers, 
Danish  and  Irish,  were  working  hard  at  preparations  for 
the  great  event,  each  straining  every  energy  and  summon- 
ing every  resource  for  the  crisis.  Towards  the  close  of 
March,  Brian's  arrangements  being  completed,  he  gave  the* 
order  for  a  simultaneous  march  to  Kilmainham,^  usually 
the  camping  ground  and  now  the  appointed  rendezvous  of 
the  national  forces.  By  the  second  week  in  April  there 
had  rallied  to  the  national  standard  a  force  which,  if 
numerically  unequal  to  that  assembled  by  the  invaders, 
was,  as  the  result  showed,  able  to  compensate  by  superior 
valour  for  whatever  it  lacked  in  numbers.  The  lords  of 
all  the  southern  half  of  the  kingdom  —  the  lords  of  Decies, 
Inchiquin,  Fermoy,  Corca-Baiskin,  Kinalmeaky,  and  Kerry 
—  and  the  lords  of  Hy-Manie  and  Hy-Fiachra  in  Con- 
naught,  we  are  told,  hastened  to  Brian's  standard.  O'More 
and  O'Nolan  of  Leinster,  and  Donald,  Steward  of  Mar,  in 
Scotland,  continues  the  historian,  "  were  the  other  chief- 
tains who  joined  him  before  Clontarf,  besides  those  of  his 


1  The  district  north  and  south  of  the  Liffey  at  this  point  —  the  Phoenix 
Park,  Kilmainham,  Inchicore,  and  Chapel-Izod  —  was  the  rendezvous. 


86 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


own  kindred,"  or  the  forces  proper  of  Thomond.^  Just 
one  faint  shadow  catches  the  eye  as  we  survey  the  picture 
presented  by  Ireland  in  the  hour  of  this  great  national 
rally.  The  northerii  chieftains,  the  lords  of  Ulster,  alone 
held  back.  Sullen  and  silent,  they  stirred  not.  They 
had  submitted  to  Brian ;  but  they  never  cordially  sup- 
ported him." 

The  great  Danish  flotilla,  under  Brodar,  the  admiral-in- 
chief,  entered  Dublin  Bay  on  Palm  Sunday,  the  18th  of 
April,  1014.  The  galleys  anchored,  some  of  them  at  Sut- 
ton, near  Howth,  others  were  moored  in  the  mouth  of  the 
river  Liffey,  and  the  rest  were  beached  or  anchored  in 
a  vast  line  stretching  along  the  Clontarf  shore,  which 
sweeps  between  the  two  points  indicated.  Brian  imme- 
diately swung  his  army  round  upon  Glasnevin,  crossed  the 
Tolka  at  the  point  where  the  Botanical  Gardens  now 
stand,  and  faced  his  line  of  battle  southward  towards 
^  where  the  enemy  were  encamped  upon  the  shore.  Mean- 
time, becoming  aware  that  Maelmurra,  prince  of  Leinster, 
was  so  eager  to  help  the  invader,  that  he  had  entered  the 
Danish  camp  with  every  man  of  his  following,  Brian 
secretly  dispatched  a  body  of  Dalcassians,  under  his  son 
Donagh,  to  dash  into  the  traitor's  territory  and  waste  it 
with  fire  and  sword.  The  secret  march  southward  of  the 
Dalcassians  was  communicated  to  Maelmurra  by  a  spy  in 
Brian's  camp,  and,  inasmuch  as  the  Dalcassians  were 
famed  as  the    invincible  legion  "  of  the  Irish  army,  the 

1  "  Under  the  standard  of  Brian  Borumhaalso  fought  that  day  the  Maer- 
mors,  or  Great  Stewards  of  Lennox  and  Mar,  with  a  contingent  of  the 
brave  Gaels  of  Alba.  It  would  even  appear,  from  a  Danish  account,  that 
some  of  the  Northmen  who  had  always  been  friendly  to  Brian,  fought  on 
his  side  at  Clontarf.  A  large  body  of  hardy  men  came  from  the  distant 
maritime  districts  of  Connemara;  many  warriors  flocked  from  other  terri- 
tories, and,  on  the  whole,  the  rallying  of  the  men  of  Ireland  in  the  cause 
of  their  countrj^  upon  that  occasion,  as  much  as  the  victor^'^  which  their 
gallantry  achieved,  renders  the  event  a  proud  and  cheering  one  in  Irish 
history."  —  Haverty. 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


87 


traitor  urged  vehemently  upon  his  English  allies  that  this 
was  the  moment  to  give  battle  —  while  Brian's  best  troops 
were  away.  Accordingly,  on  Holy  Thursday,  the  Danes 
announced  their  resolution  to  give  battle  next  day.  Brian 
had  the  utmost  reluctance  to  fight  upon  that  day,  which 
would  be  Good  Friday,  thinking  it  almost  a  profanation  to 
engage  in  combat  upon  the  day  on  which  our  Lord  died 
for  man's  redemption.  He  begged  that  the  engagement 
might  be  postponed  even  one  day ;  but  the  Danes  were 
all  the  more  resolute  to  engage  on  the  next  morning,  for, 
saj^s  an  old  legend  of  the  battle,  Brodar,  having  consulted 
one  of  the  Danish  pagan  oracles,  was  told  that  if  he  gave 
battle  upon  the  Friday  Brian  would  fall. 

With  early  dawn  next  day,  Good  Friday,  23d  of  April, 
1014,  all  was  bustle  in  both  camps.^  The  Danish  army, 
facing  inland,  northw^ards  or  north-east,  stretched  along 
the  shore  of  Dublin  Bay ;  its  left  flank  touching  and  pro- 
tected by  the  city  of  Dublin,  its  centre  being  about  the 
spot  where  Clontarf  castle  now  stands,  and  its  right  wing 
resting  on  Dollymount.  The  Irish  army,  facing  south- 
wards, had  its  right  on  Drumcondra,  its  centre  on  Fair- 
view,  and  its  extreme  left  on  Clontarf.  The  Danish  forces 
were  disposed  of  in  three  divisions,  of  which  the  first,  or 

1  Haverty  says:  "The  exact  site  of  the  battle  seems  to  be  tolerably 
well  defined.  In  some  copies  of  the  Annals  it  is  called  '  the  Battle  of  the 
Fishing-weir  of  Clontarf; '  and  the  weir  in  question  must  have  been  at 
the  mouth  of  the  Tolka,  about  the  place  where  Ballybough  Bridge  now 
stands.  It  also  appears  that  the  principal  destruction  of  the  Danes  took 
place  when  in  their  flight  they  endeavoured  to  cross  the  Tolka,  probably 
at  the  moment  of  high  water,  when  great  numbers  of  them  were  drowned; 
and  it  is  expressly  stated  that  they  were  pursued  with  great  slaughter 
*from  the  Tolka  to  Dublm.' "  I,  however,  venture,  though  with  proper 
diffidence,  to  suggest  that  the  '  t'ishing-weir '  stood  a  short  distance  higher 
up  the  river,  to  wit,  at  Clonliffe,  directly  below  where  the  College  of  the 
Holy  Cross  now  stands.  For  there  is,  in  my  opinion,  ample  evidence  to 
show  that  at  that  time  the  sea  flowed  over  the  flats  on  the  city  side,  by 
which  Ballybough  Bridge  is  now  approached,  making  a  goodly  bay,  or 
wide  estuary,  there;  and  that  only  about  the  point  I  indicate  was  a  fishing- 
weir  likely  to  have  stood  in  1014. 


88 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


left,  was  composed  of  the  Danes  of  Dublin,  under  their 
king,  Sitric,  and  the  princes  Dolat  and  Conmael,  with  the 
thousand  Norwegians  already  mentioned  as  clothed  in 
suits  of  ringed  mail,  under  the  youthful  warriors  Carlus 
and  Anrud  ;  the  second,  or  central  division,  was  composed 
chiefly  of  the  Lagenians,  commanded  by  Maelmurra  him- 
self, and  the  princes  of  Offal}^  and  of  the  Liifey  territory ; 
and  the  third  division,  or  right  wing,  was  made  up  of  the 
auxiliaries  from  the  Baltic  and  the  Islands,  under  Brodar, 
admiral  of  the  fleet,  and  the  Earl  of  Orkneys,  together 
with  some  British  auxiliaries  from  Wales  and  Cornwall. 
To  oppose  these  the  Irish  monarch  also  marshalled  his 
forces  in  three  corps  or  divisions.  The  first,  or  right  wing, 
composed  chiefly  of  the  diminished  legions  of  the  brave 
Dalcassians,  was  under  the  command  of  his  son  Morrogh, 
who  had  also  with  him  his  four  brothers,  Tiege,  Donald, 
Conor,  and  Flann,  and  his  own  son  (grandson  of  Brian), 
the  youthful  Torlogh,  who  was  but  fifteen  j^ears  of  age. 
In  this  division  also  fought  Malachy  with  the  Meath  con- 
tingent. The  Irish  centre  division  comprised  the  troops  of 
Desmond,  or  South  Munster,  under  the  command  of  Kian, 
son  of  Molloy,  and  Donel,  son  of  Duv  Davoren  (ancestor 
of  The  O'Donoghue),  both  of  the  Eugenian  line.  The 
Irish  left  wing  was  composed  mainly  of  the  forces  of 
Connaught,  under  O'Kelly,  prince  of  Hy-Manie  (the  great 
central  territory  of  Connaught)  O'Heyne,  prince  of  Hy- 
Fiachra  Ahna ;  and  Echtigern,  king  of  Dalariada.  It  is 
supposed  that  Brian's  army  numbered  about  20,000  men.^ 
All  being  ready  for  the  signal  of  battle,  Brian  himself, 
mounted  on  a  richly-caparisoned  charger,  rode  through  the 
Irish  lines,  as  all  the  records  are  careful  to  tell  us,  "  with 
his  sword  in  one  hand,  and  a  crucifix  in  the  other,"  exhort- 
ing the  troops  to  remember  the  momentous  issues  that 


1  Abridged  from  Haverty. 


THE  STOEY  OF  IRELAND. 


89 


depended  upon  the  fortunes  of  that  day  —  Religion  and 
Country  against  Paganism  and  Bondage.  It  is  said,  that 
on  this  occasion  he  delivered  an  address  which  moved  his 
soldiers,  now  to  tears,  and  anon  to  the  utmost  pitch  of 
enthusiasm  and  resolution.  And  we  can  well  imagine  the 
eflfect,  upon  an  army  drawn  up  as  they  were  for  the  onset  of 
battle  in  defence  of  "  Faith  and  Fatherland,"  of  such  a  sight 
and  such  an  appeal  —  their  aged  and  venerable  monarch, 
"  his  white  hair  floating  in  the  wind,"  riding  through  their 
lines,  with  the  sacred  symbol  of  Redemption  borne  aloft, 
and  adjuring  them,  as  the  chronicles  tell  us,  to  "  remember 
that  on  this  day  Christ  died  for  us,  on  the  Mount  of  Calvary,'^ 
Moreover,  Brian  himself  had  given  them  an  earnest,  such 
perhaps  as  monarch  had  never  given  before,  of  his  resolve, 
that  with  the  fortunes  of  his  country  he  and  his  sons  and 
kinsmen  all  would  stand  or  fall.  He  had  brought  his 
sons  and  nephews  there,"  says  the  historian,  who  might 
have  added,  and  even  his  grandchildren,  "  and  showed  that 
he  was  prepared  to  let  the  existence  of  his  race  depend 
upon  the  issue  of  the  day."  We  may  be  sure  a  circum- 
stance so  affecting  as  this  was  not  lost  upon  Brian's  sol- 
diers. It  gave  force  to  every  word  of  his  address.  He 
recounted,  we  are  told,  all  the  barbarities  and  the  sacri- 
leges perpetrated  hj  the  invaders  in  their  lawless  ravages 
on  Irish  soil,  the  shrines  they  had  plundered,  the  holy  relics 
they  had  profaned,  the  brutal  cruelties  they  had  inflicted 
on  unarmed  non-combatants — nay,  on  "the  servants  of 
the  Altar."  Then,  raising  the  crucifix  aloft,  he  invoked 
the  Omnipotent  God  to  look  down  upon  them  that  day, 
and  to  strengthen  their  arms  in  a  cause  so  just  and  holy, 

Mr.  William  Kenealy  (now  of  Kilkenny)  is  the  author 
of  a  truly  noble  poem  which  gives  with  all  the  native 
vigour  and  force  of  the  original,  this  thrilling  "  Address 
of  Brian  to  his  Army." 


90 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


"  Stand  ye  now  for  Erin's  glory !    Stand  ye  now  for  Erin's  cause ! 
Long  ye 've  groaned  beneath  the  rigour  of  the  Northmen's  savage 
laws. 

What  though  brothers  league  against  us  ?    What,  though  myriads 
be  the  foe  ? 

Victory  will  be  more  honoured  in  the  myriads'  overthrow. 

"  Proud  Connacians !  oft  we 've  wrangled  in  our  petty  feuds  of  yore ; 
Now  we  fight  against  the  robber  Dane  upon  our  native  shore ; 
May  our  hearts  unite  in  friendship,  as  our  blood  in  one  red  tide, 
While  we  crush  their  mail-clad  legions,  and  annihilate  their  pride ! 

"  Brave  Eugenians !  Erin  triumphs  in  the  sight  she  sees  to-day  — 
Desmond's  homesteads  all  deserted  for  the  muster  and  the  fray ! 
Cluan's  vale  and  Galtees'  summit  send  their  bravest  and  their 
best  — 

May  such  hearts  be  theirs  for  ever,  for  the  Freedom  of  the  West ! 

"  Chiefs  and  Kernes  of  Dalcassia !    Brothers  of  my  past  career, 
Oft  we've  trodden  on  the  pirate-flag  that  flaunts  before  us  here ; 
You  remember  Inniscattery,  how  we  bounded  on  the  foe, 
As  the  torrent  of  the  mountain  bursts  upon  the  plain  below ! 

"  They  have  razed  our  proudest  castles  —  spoiled  the  Temples  of  the 
Lord  — 

Burnt  to  dust  the  sacred  relics  —  put  the  Peaceful  to  the  sword  — 

Desecrated  all  things  holy  —  as  they  soon  may  do  again, 

If  their  power  to-day  we  smite  not  —  if  to-day  we  be  not  men ! 


"  On  this  day  the  God-man  suffered  —  look  upon  the  sacred  sign  — 
May  we  conquer  'neath  its  shadow,  as  of  old  did  Constantine ! 
May  the  heathen  tribe  of  Odin  fade  before  it  like  a  dream, 
And  the  triumph  of  this  glorious  day  in  our  future  annals  gleam ! 

"  God  of  heaven,  bless  our  banner  —  nerve  our  sinews  for  the  strife  I 
Fight  we  now  for  all  that 's  holy  —  for  our  altars,  land,  and  life  — 
For  red  vengeance  on  the  spoiler,  whom  the  blazing  temples  trace  — 
For  the  honour  of  our  maidens  and  the  glory  of  our  race ! 

"  Should  I  fall  before  the  foeman,  't  is  the  death  I  seek  to-day; 
Should  ten  thousand  daggers  pierce  me,  bear  my  body  not  away, 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


91 


Till  this  day  of  days  be  over  —  till  the  field  is  fought  and  won  — 
Then  the  holy  Mass  be  chanted,  and  the  funeral  rites  be  done. 


"  Men  of  Erin  !  men  of  Erin  !  grasp  the  battle-axe  and  spear  ! 
Chase  these  Northern  wolves  before  you  like  a  herd  of  frightened 
deer ! 

Burst  their  ranks,  like  bolts  from  heaven !    Down  on  the  heathen 
crew. 

For  the  glory  of  the  Crucified,  and  Erin's  glory  too  !  "  . 

Who  can  be  astonished  that,  a^  he  ceased,  a  shout  wild, 
furious,  and  deafening,  burst  from  the  Irish  lines  ?  A  cry- 
arose  from  the  soldiers,  we  are  told,  demanding  instantly 
to  be  led  against  the  enemy.  The  aged  monarch  now 
placed  himself  at  the  head  of  his  guards,  to  lead  the  van 
of  battle  ;  but  at  this  point  his  sons  and  all  the  attendant 
princes  and  commanders  protested  against  his  attempting, 
at  his  advanced  age,  to  take  part  personally  in  the  con- 
flict ;  and  eventually,  after  much  effort,  they  succeeded  in 
prevailing  upon  him  to  retire  to  his  tent,  and  to  let  the 
chief  command  devolve  upon  his  eldest  son  Morrogh. 

"  The  battle,"  says  a  historian,  "  then  commenced ;  '  a 
spirited,  fierce,  violent,  vengeful,  and  furious  battle ;  the 
likeness  of  which  was  not  to  be  found  at  that  time,'  as  the 
old  annalists  quaintly  describe  it.    It  was  a  conflict  of 
heroes.    The  chieftains  engaged  at  every  point  in  single 
combat ;  and  the  greater  part  of  them  on  both  sides  fell. 
The  impetuosity  of  the  Irish  was  irresistible,  and  their 
battle-axes  did  fearful  execution,  every  man  of  the  ten  I 
hundred  mailed  warriors  of  Norway  having  been  made  to  ^ 
bite  the  dust,  and  it  w^as  against  them,  we  are  told,  that 
the  Dalcassians  had  been  obliged  to  contend  single-handed. 
The  heroic  Morrogh  performed  prodigies  of  valour  through- 
out the  day.    Ranks  of  men  fell  before  him  ;  and,  hewing 
his  way  to  the  Danish  standard,  he  cut  down  two  succes 
sive  bearers  of  it  with  his  battle-axe.    Two  Danish  leaders, 


92 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


Carolus  and  Conmael,  enraged  at  this  success,  rushed  on 
him  together,  but  both  fell  in  rapid  succession  by  his 
sword.  Twice,  Morrogh  and  some  of  his  chiefs  retired  to 
slake  their  thirst  and  cool  their  hands,  swollen  from  the 
violent  use  of  the  sword ;  and  the  Danes  observing  the 
vigour  with  which  they  returned  to  the  conflict,  succeeded, 
by  a  desperate  effort,  in  cutting  off  the  brook  which  had 
refreshed  them.  Thus  the  battle  raged  from  an  early 
hour  in  the  morning  —  innumerable  deeds  of  valour  being 
performed  on  both  sides,  and  victory  appearing  still  doubt- 
ful, until  the  third  or  fourth  hour  in  the  afternoon,  when 
a  fresh  and  desperate  effort  was  made  by  the  Irish,  and 
the  Danes,  now  almost  destitute  of  leaders,  began  to  waver 
and  give  way  at  every  point.  Just  at  this  moment  the 
Norwegian  prince,  Anrud,  encountered  Morrogh,  who  was 
unable  to  raise  his  arms  from  fatigue,  but  with  the  left 
hand  he  seized  Anrud  and  hurled  him  to  the  earth,  and 
with  the  other  placed  the  point  of  his  sword  on  the  breast 
of  the  prostrate  Northman,  and  leaning  on  it  plunged  it 
through  his  body.  While  stooping,  however,  for  this  pur- 
pose, Anrud  contrived  to  inflict  on  him  a  mortal  wound 
with  a  dagger,  and  Morrogh  fell  in  the  arms  of  victory. 
According  to  other  accounts,  Morrogh  was  in  the  act  of 
stooping  to  relieve  an  enemy  when  he  received  from  him 
his  death  wound.  This  disaster  had  not  the  effect  of  turn- 
ing the  fortune  of  the  day,  for  the  Danes  and  their  allies 
were  in  a  state  of  utter  disorder,  and  along  their  whole 
line  had  commenced  to  fly  towards  the  city  or  to  their 
ships.  Thej^  plunged  into  the  Tolka  at  a  time,  we  may 
conclude,  when  the  river  was  swollen  with  the  tide,  so 
that  great  numbers  were  drowned.  The  body  of  young 
Turlogh  was  found  after  the  battle  '  at  the  weir  of  Clon- 
tarf,'  with  his  hands  entangled  in  the  hair  of  a  Dane  whom 
he  had  grappled  with  in  the  pursuit. 

"But  the  chief  tragedy  of  the  day  remains  to  be  related. 


TBE  STOBY  OF  IBELAND. 


93 


Brodar,  the  pirate  admiral,  who  commanded  in  the  point 
of  the  Danish  lines  remotest  from  the  cit}',  seeing  the 
rout  general,  was  making  his  way  through  some  thickets 
with  only  a  few  attendants,  when  he  came  upon  the  tent 
of  Brian  Borumha,  left  at  that  moment  without  his 
guards.  The  fierce  Norseman  rushed  in  and  found  the 
aged  monarch  at  prayer  before  the  crucifix,  which  he  had 
that  morning  held  up  to  the  view  of  his  troops,  and  at- 
tended only  by  his  page.  Yet,  Brian  had  time  to  seize 
his  arms,  and  died  sword  in  hand.  The  Irish  accounts 
say  that  the  king  killed  Brodar,  and  was  only  overcome 
by  numbers;  but  the  Danish  version  in  the  Niala  Saga  is 
more  probable,  and  in  this  Brodar  is  represented  as  hold- 
ing up  his  reeking  sword,  and  crying :  '  Let  it  be  pro- 
claimed from  man  to  man  that  Brian  has  been  slain  by 
Brodar.'  It  is  added,  on  the  same  authoritj^,  that  the  fe- 
rocious pirate  was  then  hemmed  in  by  Brian's  returned 
guards  and  captured  alive,  and  that  he  was  hung  from  a 
tree,  and  continued  to  rage  like  a  beast  of  prey  until  all 
his  entrails  were  torn  out  —  the  Irish  soldiers  thus  taking 
savage  vengeance  for  the  death  of  their  king,  who  but  for 
their  own  neglect  would  have  been  safe."  ^ 

Such  was  the  victory  of  Clontarf — one  of  the  most 
glorious  events  in  the  annals  of  Ireland  I  It  was  the  final 
effort  of  the  Danish  power  to  effect  the  conquest  of  this 
country.  Never  again  was  that  effort  renewed.  For  a 
century  subsequently  the  Danes  continued  to  hold  some 
maritime  cities  in  Ireland ;  but  never  more  did  they  dream 
of  conquest.  That  design  was  overthrown  for  ever  on  the 
bloody  plain  of  Clontarf. 

It  was,  as  the  historian  called  it  truly,  "  a  conflict  of 
heroes."  There  was  no  flinching  on  either  side,  and  on 
each  side  fell  nearly  every  commander  of  note  who  had 


1  Haverty. 


94 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


entered  the  battle  I  The  list  of  the  dead  is  a  roll  of  no- 
bility, Danish  and  Irish ;  amongst  the  dead  being  the 
brave  Caledonian  chiefs,  the  great  Stewards  of  Mar  and 
Lennox,  who  had  come  from  distant  Alba  to  fight  on  the 
Irish  side  that  day ! 

But  direst  disaster  of  all  —  most  woful  in  its  ulterior 
results  affecting  the  fate  and  fortunes  of  Ireland  —  was  the 
slaughter  of  the  reigning  family :  Brian  himself,  Morrogh, 
his  eldest  son  and  destined  successor,  and  his  grandson, 
''the  youthful  Torlogh,"  eldest  child  of  Morrogh  —  three 
generations  cut  down  in  the  one  day  upon  the  same  field 
of  battle ! 

"  The  fame  of  the  event  went  out  through  all  nations. 
The  chronicles  of  Wales,  of  Scotland,  and  of  Man;  the 
annals  of  Ademar  and  Marianus ;  ^  the  sagas  of  Denmark 
and  the  Isles,  all  record  the  event.  The  Norse  settlers  in 
Caithness  saw  terrific  visions  of  Valhalla  'the  day  after 
the  battle.'  "  ^  ''  The  annals  state  that  Brian  and  Morrogh 
both  lived  to  receive  the  last  sacraments  of  the  Church, 
and  that  their  remains  were  conveyed  by  the  monks  to 
Swords  (near  Dublin),  and  thence  to  Armagh  by  the 
Archbishop ;  and  that  their  obsequies  were  celebrated  for 
twelve  days  and  nights  with  great  splendour  by  the  clergy 
of  Armagh ;  after  which  the  body  of  Brian  was  deposited 
in  a  stone  coffin  on  the  north  side  of  the  high  altar  in 
the  cathedral,  the  body  of  his  son  being  interred  on  the 
south  side  of  the  same  church.  The  remains  of  Torlogh 
and  of  several  of  the  other  chieftains  were  buried  in  the 
old  churchyard  of  Kilmainham,  where  the  shaft  of  an 
Irish  cross  still  marks  the  spot."  ^ 


1  "  Brian,  king  of  Hibernia,  slain  on  Good  Friday,  the  9th  of  the  calends 
of  May  (23d  April),  with  his  mind  and  his  hands  turned  towards  God.'*  — 
Chronicles  of  Marianus  Scotus. 

-  M'Gee,  s  Haverty. 


TMJS  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


95 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

"APTER    THE   BATTLE."     THE    SCEXE    "  UPOjS^  OSSORY'S 
PLAIN."     THE  LAST  DAYS  OF  NATIONAL  FREEDOM. 

g^^l^HREE  days  after  the  battle  the  decimated  but 
IJs^  victory-crowned  Irish  legions  broke  up  camp  and 
marched  homewards  to  their  respective  prov- 
inces, chanting  songs  of  triumph.  The  Dalcas- 
sians  (who  had  suffered  terribly  in  the  battle)  found  their 
way  barred  by  a  hostile  prince,  Fitzpatrick,  lord  of  Ossory, 
whose  opposing  numbers  vastly  exceeded  their  effective 
force,  which  indeed  was  barely  enough  to  convey  or  con- 
voy their  wounded  homeward  to  Kincora.  In  this  ex- 
tremity the  wounded  soldiers  entreated  that  they  might 
be  allowed  to  fight  with  the  rest.  "  Let  stakes,"  they 
said,  "  be  driven  into  the  ground,  and  suffer  each  of  us,  tied 
to  and  supported  hy  one  of  these  stakes^  to  be  placed  in  his 
rank  by  the  side  of  a  sound  man."  "  Between  seven  and 
eight  hundred  wounded  men,"  adds  the  historian,  "  pale, 
emaciated,  and  supported  in  this  manner,  appeared  mixed 
with  the  foremost  of  the  troops !  Never  was  such  another 
sight  exhibited ! "  ^  Keating's  quaint  narrative  of  the  event 
is  well  worthy  of  quotation.  He  says :  "  Donogh  then 
again  gave  orders  that  one-third  of  his  host  should  be 
placed  on  guard  as  a  protection  for  the  wounded,  and  that 
the  other  two-thirds  should  meet  the  expected  battle. 
But  when  tlie  wounded  men  heard  of  these  orders,  they 
sprung  up  in  such  haste  that  their  wounds  and  sores  burst 
open;  but  they  bound  them  up  in  moss,  and  grasping  their 
lances  and  their  swords,  they  came  thus  equipped  into  the- 


1  O'Halloran. 


96 


tHE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


midst  of  their  comrades.  Here  they  requested  of  Donn- 
cadh,  son  of  Brian,  to  send  some  men  to  the  forest  with 
instructions  to  bring  them  a  number  of  strong  stakes, 
which  they  proposed  to  have  thrust  into  the  ground,  '  and 
to  these  stakes,'  said  they,  '  let  us  be  bound  with  our  arms 
in  our  hands,  and  let  our  sons  and  our  kinsmen  be  sta- 
tioned by  our  sides;  and  let  two  warriors,  who  are  un- 
wounded,  be  placed  near  each  one  of  us  wounded,  for  it  is 
thus  that  we  will  help  one  another  with  truer  zeal,  because 
shame  will  not  allow  the  sound  man  to  leave  his  position 
until  his  wounded  and  bound  comrade  can  leave  it  like- 
wise.' Tliis  request  was  complied  with,  and  the  wounded 
men  were  stationed  after  the  manner  which  they  had 
pointed  out.  And,  indeed,  that  array  in  which  the  Dal 
g-Cais  were  then  drawn,  was  a  thing  for  the  mind  to 
dwell  upon  in  admiration,  for  it  was  a  great  and  amazing 
wonder." 

Our  national  minstrel,  Moore,  has  alluded  to  this  episode 
of  the  return  of  the  Dalcassians  in  one  of  the  melodies :  — 

"  Forget  not  our  wounded  companions,  who  stood 

In  the  day  of  distress  by  our  side : 
While  the  moss  of  the  valley  grew  red  with  their  blood. 

They  stirred  not,  but  conquered  and  died. 
The  sun  that  now  blesses  our  arms  with  his  light 

Saw  them  fall  upon  Ossory's  plain  : 
Oh !  let  him  not  blush,  when  he  leaves  us  to-night, 

To  find  that  they  fell  there  in  vain  ! 

With  the  victory  of  Clontarf  the  day  of  Ire''and's  unity 
and  power  as  a  nation  may  be  said  to  have  ended.  The 
sun  of  her  national  greatness,  that  had  been  waning  pre- 
viously, set  suddenly  in  a  brilliant  flash  of  glory.  If  we 
except  the  eight  years  immediately  following  Brian's  death, 
Ireland  never  more  knew  the  blessing  of  national  unity  — 
never  more  was  a  kingdom,  in  the  full  sense  of  the  word. 
Malachy  Mor  —  well  worthy  of  his  title  ''the  great"  — 


THOMAS  MOORE. 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


97 


the  good,  the  magnanimous,  the  patriotic,  and  brave  king, 
whom  Brian  had  deposed,  was  unanimously  recalled  to 
the  throne  after  Brian's  death.  The  eight  years  during 
w  nich  Malachy  ruled  in  this  the  second  term  of  his  sover- 
eignty, were  marked  by  every  evidence  of  kingly  ability 
and  virtue  on  his  part.  At  length,  finding  death  approach- 
ing, he  retired  for  greater  solitude  to  an  island  in  Lough 
Ennel  (now  called  Cormorant  Island),  whither  repaired 
sorrowfully  to  his  spiritual  succour  "  Amalgaid,  Archbishop 
of  Armagh,  the  abbots  of  Clonmacnoise  and  of  Durrow, 
and  a  good  train  of  clergy ;  "  and  where,  as  the  old  chroni- 
cles relate  it,  after  intense  penance,  on  the  fourth  of  the 
nones  of  September,  died  Malachy,  the  pillar  of  the  dignity 
and  nobility  of  the  western  world." 

He  was  the  last  "unquestioned"  monarch  of  Ireland. 
The  interval  between  his  death  and  the  landing  of  Henry 
the  Second  (over  one  hundred  and  fifty  years)  was  a  period 
of  bloody  and  ruinous  contention,  that  invited  —  and  I  had 
almost  said  merited  —  the  yoke  of  a  foreign  rule.  After 
Malachy's  death,  Brian's  younger  son,  Donogh,  claimed 
the  throne ;  but  his  claim  was  scorned  and  repudiated  by 
a  moiety  of  the  princes,  who  had,  indeed,  always  regarded 
Brian  himself  as  little  better  than  an  usurper,  though  a 
brave  and  a  heroic  sovereign.  Never  afterwards  was  an 
Ard-Ri  fully  and  lawfully  elected  or  acknowledged.  There 
were  frequently  two  or  more  claimants  assuming  the  title 
at  the  same  time,  and  desolating  the  country  in  their  con- 
test for  sovereignty.  Brian  had  broken  the  charmed  line 
of  regulated  succession,  that  had,  as  I  have  already  de- 
tailed, lasted  through  nearly  two  thousand  years.  His  act 
was  the  final  blow  at  the  already  loosened  and  tottering 
edifice  of  centralized  national  authority.  While  he  him- 
self lived,  with  his  own  strong  hand  and  powerful  mind 
to  keep  all  things  in  order,  it  was  well ;  no  evil  was  likely 
to  come  of  the  act  that  supplied  a  new  ground  for  wasting 


98 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


discords  and  bloody  civil  strife.  But  when  the  powerful 
hand  and  the  strong  mind  had  passed  away ;  when  the 
splendid  talents  that  had  made  even  the  deposed  monarch, 
Malachy,  bow  to  their  supremacy,  no  longer  availed  to 
bind  the  kingdom  into  unity  and  strength,  the  miseries 
that  ensued  were  hopeless.  The  political  disintegration 
of  Ireland  was  aggravated  a  thousand-fold.  The  idea  of 
national  unity  seemed  as  completely  dead,  buried,  and 
forgotten,  when  the  Normans  came  in,  as  if  it  never  had 
existence  amongst  the  faction-split  people  of  Erinn. 

'T  was  self-abasement  paved  the  way 
For  villain  bonds  and  despot's  sway. 

Donogh  O'Brien,  never  acknowledged  as  Ard-Ri,  was 
driven  from  even  his  titular  sovereignty  by  his  own 
nephew,  Torlogh.  Aged,  broken,  and  weary,  he  sailed  for 
Rome,  where  he  entered  a  monastery  and  ended  his  life 
"  in  penance,"  as  the  old  chronicles  say.  It  is  stated  that 
this  Donogh  took  with  him  to  Rome  the  crown  and  the 
harp  of  his  father,  the  illustrious  Brian,  and  presented 
them  to  the  Pope.^  This  donation  of  his  father's  diadem 
to  the  Pope  by  Donogh  has  sometimes  been  referred  to  as 
if  it  implied  a  bestowal  of  the  Irish  sovereignty  ;  a  placing 
of  it,  as  it  were,  at  the  disposal  of  the  Father  of  Christen- 
dom, for  the  best  interests  of  faction-ruined  Ireland  herself, 
and  for  the  benefit  of  the  Christian  religion.  Perhaps  the 
Pope  was  led  so  to  regard  it.  But  the  Supreme  Pontiff 
did  not  know  that  such  a  gift  was  not  Donogh's  to  give  ! 
Donogh  never  owned  or  possessed  the  Irish  sovereignty ; 
and  even  if  he  had  been  unanimously  elected  and  acknowl- 
edged Ard-Ri  (and  he  never  was),  the  Irish  sovereignty 
was  a  trust  to  which  the  Ard-Ri  was  elected  for  life,  and 


1  The  harp  is  still  in  existence.  It  is  in  the  Museum  of  Trinity  College, 
Dublin. 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


99 


which  he  could  not  donate  even  to  his  own  son,  except  by 
the  consent  of  the  Royal  Electors  and  Free  Clans  of 
Erinn. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

HOW   ENGLAND   BECAME  A   COMPACT   KINGDOM,  WHILE 
IRELAND  WAS  BREAKING  INTO  FRAGMENTS. 

E  now  approach  the  period  at  which,  for  the 
first  time,  the  history  of  Ireland  needs  to  be 
read  with  that  of  England. 

A  quarter  of  a  century  after  the  rout  of  the 
Danes  by  the  Irish  at  Clontarf,  the  Anglo-Saxons  drove 
them  from  the  English  throne,  the  Anglo-Saxon  line  being 
restored  in  the  person  of  Edward  the  Confessor.  A  quar- 
ter of  a  century  subsequently,  however,  the  Anglo-Saxons 
were  again  dethroned,  and  England  was  again  conquered 
by  new  invaders  —  or  the  old  ones  with  a  new  name  —  the 
Normans.  In  this  last  struggle,  the  Anglo-Saxons  were 
aided  by  troops  from  Ireland ;  for  the  Normans  were  kith 
and  kin  of  the  Norse  foes  whom  Ireland  had  such  reason 
to  hate.  An  Irish  contingent  fought  side  by  side  with  the 
Saxons  in  their  struggle  against  William ;  and  when  the 
brave  but  unfortunate  Harold  fell  at  Hastings,  it  was  to 
Ireland  his  children  were  sent  for  friendly  asylum. 

The  Normans  treasured  a  bitter  remembrance  of  this 
against  Ireland ;  and  there  is  evidence  that  from  the  first 
they  meant  to  essay  the  subjugation  of  that  island  also,  as 
soon  as  they  sliould  have  consolidated  their  British  con- 
quest. These  same  Normans  were  a  brave  race.  They 
possessed  every  quality  requisite  for  military  conquerors. 
To  the  rough,  fierce  vigour  of  their  Norse  ancestors  they 
had  added  the  military  discipline  and  scientific  skill  which 


100 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


the  Gauls  had  learned  from  their  Roman  masters.  They 
conquered  united  England  in  one  year.  Yet  they  were 
five  hundred  years  unsuccessfully  labouring  to  conquer  dis- 
united  .Ireland ! 

During  the  one  hundred  and  fifty  years  following  Brian's 
death  (devoted  by  the  Irish  princes  to  every  factious  folly 
and  crime  that  could  weaken,  disorganize,  disunite,  and 
demoralize  their  country),  the  Normans  in  England  were 
solidifying  and  strengthening  their  power.  England  was 
becoQiing  a  compact  nation,  governed  by  concentrated 
national  authority,  and  possessed  of  a  military  organiza- 
tion formidable  in  numbers  and  in  arms,  but  most  of  all 
in  scientific  mode  of  warfare  and  perfection  of  military 
discipline;  while  Ireland,  like  a  noble  vessel  amid  the 
breakers,  was  absolutely  going  to  pieces  —  breaking  up 
into  fragments,  or  "  clans,"  north,  south,  east,  and  west. 
As  a  natural  result  of  this  anarchy  or  wasting  strife  of 
factions,  social  and  religious  disorders  supervened ;  and  as 
a  historian  aptly  remarks,  the  Island  of  Saints  "  became 
an  "  Island  of  Sinners."  The  state  of  religion  was  de- 
plorable. The  rules  of  ecclesiastical  discipline  were  in 
many  places  overthrown,  as  was  nearly  every  other  neces- 
sary moral  and  social  safeguard ;  and,  inevitably,  the  most 
lamentable  disorders  and  scandals  resulted.  The  bishops 
vainly  sought  to  calm  this  fearful  war  of  factions  that  was 
thus  ruining  the  power  of  a  great  nation,  and  destroying 
or  disgracing  its  Christian  faith.  They  threatened  to 
appeal  to  the  Supreme  Pontiff,  and  to  invoke  his  inter- 
position in  behalf  of  religion  thus  outraged,  and  civil 
society  thus  desolated.  St.  Malachy,  the  primate  of 
Armagh,  the  fame  of  whose  sanctity,  piety,  and  learning 
had  reached  all  Europe,  laboured  heroically  amidst  these 
terrible  afflictions.  He  proceeded  to  Rome,  and  was  re- 
ceived with  every  mark  of  consideration  by  the  reigning 
Pope,  Innocent  the  Second,  who,  "  descending  from  his 


THE  STOB  Y  OF  IRELAy^D.  101 

throne,  placed  his  own  mitre  on  the  head  of  the  Irish  saint, 
presented  him  with  his  own  vestments  and  other  religious 
gifts,  and  appointed  him  apostolic  legate  in  the  place  of 
Gilbert,  bishop  of  Limerick,  then  a  very  old  man."  St. 
Malachy  petitioned  the  Pope  for  the  necessary  recognition 
of  the  Irish  archiepiscopal  sees,  by  the  sending  of  the 
palliiiuKs  to  the  archbishops ;  but  the  Pope  pointed  out 
that  so  grave  a  request  should  proceed  from  a  synod  of 
the  Irish  Church.  The  primate  returned  to  Ireland ;  and 
after  some  time  devoted  to  still  more  energetic  measures 
to  cope  with  the  difficulties  created  by  perpetual  civil 
war,  he  eventually  convened  a  national  synod,  which  was 
held  at  Innis-Patrick,  near  Skerries,  county  Dublin.  St. 
Malachy  was  authorised  again  to  proceed  to  the  Holy 
Father,  and  in  the  name  of  the  Irish  Church  beseech  him 
to  grant  the  palliums.  The  aged  primate  set  out  on  his 
journey.  But  while  on  his  way,  having  reached  Clairvaux, 
he  was  seized  with  his  death-sickness,  and  expired  there 
(2d  November,  1148),  attended  by  the  great  St.  Bernard, 
between  whom  and  the  Irish  primate  a  personal  friendship 
existed,  and  a  correspondence  passed,  portion  of  which  is 
still  extant.  Three  years  afterwards  the  palliums,  sent  by 
Pope  Eugene  the  Third,  were  brought  to  Ireland  by  Car- 
dinal Paparo,  and  were  solemnly  conferred  on  the  arch- 
bishops the  year  following,  at  a  national  synod  held  at 
Kells. 

But  all  the  efforts  of  the  ministers  of  religion  could  not 
compensate  for  the  want  of  a  stable  civil  government  in 
the  land.  Nothing  could  permanently  restrain  the  fierce 
violence  of  the  chiefs ;  and  it  is  clear  that  at  Rome,  and 
throughout  Europe,  the  opinion  at  this  time  began  to  gain 
ground  that  Ireland  was  a  hopeless  case.  And,  indeed, 
so  it  must  have  seemed.  It  is  true  that  the  innate  virtue 
and  morality  of  the  Irish  national  character  began  to  assert 
itself  the  moment  society  was  allowed  to  enjoy  the  least 


102 


TEE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


respite  :  it  is  beyond  question  that,  during  and  after  the 
time  of  the  sainted  primate,  Malachy,  vigorous  and  com- 
prehensive efforts  were  afoot,  and  great  strides  made, 
towards  reforming  the  abuses  with  which  chronic  civil 
war  had  covered  the  land.  But,  like  many  another  refor- 
mation, it  came  too  late.  Before  the  ruined  nation  could 
be  reconstituted,  the  Nemesis  of  invasion  arrived,  to  teach 
all  peoples,  by  the  story  of  Ireland's  fate,  that  when 
national  cohesiveness  is  gone,  national  power  has  departed 
and  national  suffering  is  at  hand. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

HOTV  HENRY  THE  SECOND  FEIGNED  WONDROUS  ANXIETV 
TO  HEAL  THE  DISORDERS  OF  IRELAND. 

HE  grandson  of  William  of  Normandy,  Conqueror 
of  England,  Henry  the  Second,  was  not  an  inat- 
tentive observer  of  the  progressing  wreck  of  the 
Irish  Church  and  Nation.  He  inherited  the 
Norman  design  of  one  day  conquering  Ireland  also,  and 
adding  that  kingdom  to  his  English  crown.  He  was  not 
ignorant  that  at  Rome  Ireland  was  regarded  as  derelict. 
An  Englishman,  Pope  Adrian,  now  sat  in  the  Chair  of 
Peter ;  and  the  English  ecclesiastical  authorities,  wlio  were 
in  constant  communication  with  the  Holy  See,  were  trans- 
mitting the  most  alarming  accounts  of  the  fearful  state  of 
Ireland.  It  is  now  known  that  these  accounts  were,  in 
many  cases,  monstrously  exaggerated ;  but  it  is  true  that, 
at  best,  the  state  of  affairs  was  very  bad. 

The  cunning  and  politic  Henry  saw  his  opportunity. 
Though  his  was  the  heart  of  a  mere  conqueror,  sordid  and 


TEE  ISTOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


103 


Ctilloiis,  lie  clothed  himself  in  the  garb  of  the  most  saintly 
piety,  and  wrote  to  the  Holy  Father,  calling  attention  to 
the  state  of  Ireland,  which  for  over  a  hundred  years  had 
been  a  scandal  to  Europe.  But  oh !  it  was  the  state  of 
religion  there  that  most  afflicted  his  pious  and  holy  Nor- 
man heart !  It  was  all  in  the  interests  of  social  order, 
morality,  religion,  and  civilization,^  that  he  now  approached 
the  Holy  Father  with  a  proposition.  In  those  times  (when 
Christendom  was  an  unbroken  family,  of  which  the  Pope 
was  the  head),  the  Supreme  Pontiff  was,  by  the  voice  of  the 
nations  themselves,  invested  with  a  certain  kind  of  arbi- 
trative  civil  authority  for  the  general  good.  And,  indeed, 
even  infidel  and  non-Catholic  historians  declare  to  us  that, 
on  the  whole,  and  with  scarcely  a  possible  exception,  the 
Popes  exerted  the  authority  thus  vested  in  them  with  a 
pure,  unselfish,  and  exalted  anxiety  for  the  general  public 
good  and  the  ends  of  justice,  for  the  advancement .  of  re- 
ligion, learning,  civilization,  and  civil  freedom.  But  this 
authority  rested  merely  on  the  principle  by  which  the 
Acadian  farmers  in  Longfellow's  poem  constituted  their 
venerable  pastor  supreme  lawgiver,  arbitrator,  and  regula- 
tor in  their  little  community ;  a  practice  which,  even  in 
our  own  day,  prevails  within  the  realms  of  fact  here  in 
Ireland  and  in  other  countries. 

Henry's  proposition  to  the  Pope  was  that  he,  the  Eng- 
lish king,  should,  with  the  sanction  of  the  Holy  Father, 
and  (of  course)  purely  in  the  interests  of  religion,  morality, 
and  social  order,  enter  Ireland  and  restore  order  in  that 
region  of  anarchy.  He  pleaded  that  the  Pope  was  bound 
to  cause  some  such  step  to  be  taken,  and  altogether  urged 
numerous  grounds  for  persuading  the  pontiff  to  credit  his 
professions  as  to  his  motives  and  designs.  Pope  Adrian 
is  said  to  have  complied  by  issuing  a  bull  approving  of 


1  Even  in  that  day— seven  hundred  years  ago — English  subjugators 
had  learned  the  use  of  these  amiable  pretexts  for  iuvasiou  aud  annexation  I 


104 


TUB  STORY  OF  IBELAND. 


Henry's  scheme  as  presented  to  him^  and  with  the  purposes 
and  on  the  conditions  therein  set  forth.  There  is  no  such 
bull  now  to  be  found  in  the  Papal  archives,  yet  it  is  credited 
that  some  such  bull  was  issued ;  but  its  contents,  terms, 
and  permissions  have  been  absurdly  misrepresented  and 
exaggerated  in  some  versions  coined  by  English  writers. 

The  Papal  bull  or  letter  once  issued,  Henrj^  had  gained 
his  point.  He  stored  away  the  document  until  his  other 
plans  should  be  ripe ;  and,  meanwhile,  having  no  longer 
any  need  of  feigning  great  piety  and  love  for  religion,  he 
flung  off  the  mask  and  entered  upon  that  course  of  con- 
duct which,  culminating  in  the  murder  of  St.  Thomas 
a  Becket,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  drew  down  upon 
hi'm  the  excommunication  of  Rome. 

Meantime  events  were  transpiring  in  Ireland  destined 
to  afford  him  a  splendid  opportunity  for  practically  avail- 
ing of  his  fraudulently  obtained  Papal  letter,  and  making 
a  commencement  in  his  scheme  of  Irish  conquest. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE  TREASON  OF  DIARMID  M'MURROGH. 

BOUT  the  year  1152,  in  the  course  of  the  inter- 
minable civil  war  desolating  Ireland,  a  feud  of  pe- 
culiar bitterness  arose  between  Tiernan  O'Ruarc, 
prince  of  Brefni,  and  Diarmid  M'Murrogh, 
prince  of  Leinster.  While  one  of  the  Ard-Righana  favour- 
able to  the  latter  was  for  the  moment  uppermost,  O'Ruarc 
had  been  dispossessed  of  his  territory,  its  lordship  beiug 
handed  over  to  M'Murrogh.  To  this  was  added  a  wrong 
still  more  dire.    Devorgilla,  the  wife  of  O'Ruarc,  eloped 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


105 


with  M'Murrogh,  already  her  husband's  most  bitter  rival 
and  foe !  Her  father  and  her  husband  both  appealed  to 
Torlogh  O'Connor  for  justice  upon  the  guilty  prince  of 
Leinster.  O'Connor,  although  M^Murrogh  had  been  one 
of  his  supporters,  at  once  acceded  to  this  request.  M'Mur- 
rogh  soon  found  his  territorj^  surrounded,  and  Devorgilla 
was  restored  to  her  husband.  She  did  not,  however,  return 
to  domestic  life.  Recent  researches  amongst  the  ancient 
"  Manuscript  Materials  for  Irish  History,"  by  O'Curry  and 
O'Donovan,  throw  much  light  upon  this  episode^  and  con- 
siderably alter  the  long  prevailing  popular  impressions  in 
reference  thereto.  Whatever  the  measure  of  Devorgilla's 
fault  in  eloping  with  M'Murrogh  —  and  the  researches 
alluded  to  bring  to  light  many  circumstances  invoking  for 
her  more  of  commiseration  than  of  angry  scorn  —  her 
whole  life  subsequently  to  this  sad  event,  and  she  lived  for 
forty  years  afterwards,  was  one  prolonged  act  of  contrition 
and  of  penitential  reparation  for  the  scandal  she  had  given. 
As  I  have  already  said,  she  did  not  return  to  the  home  she 
had  abandoned.  She  entered  a  religious  retreat;  and 
thenceforth,  while  living  a  life  of  practical  piety,  penance, 
and  mortification,  devoted  the  mimense  dower  which  she 
possessed  in  her  own  right,  to  works  of  charity,  reliev- 
ing the  poor,  building  hospitals,  asylums,  convents,  and 
churches. 

Thirteen  years  after  this  event,  Roderick  O'Connor,  son 
and  successor  of  the  king  who  had  forced  M'Murrogh  to 
yield  up  the  unhappy  Devorgilla,  claimed  the  throne  of 
the  kingdom.  Roderick  was  a  devoted  friend  of  O'Ruarc, 
and  entertained  no  very  warm  feelings  towards  M'Mur- 
rogh.  The  king  claimant  marched  on  his  circuit,"  claim- 
ing hostages  "  from  the  local  princes  as  recognition  of 
sovereignty.  M'Murrogh,  who  hated  Roderick  with  intense 
violence,  burned  his  city  of  Ferns,  and  retired  to  his  Wick- 
low  fastnesses,  rather  than  yield  allegiance  to  him.  Rod- 


106 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


erick  could  not  just  then  delay  on  his  circuit  to  follow 
him  up,  but  passed  on  southward,  took  up  his  hostages 
there,  and  then  returned  to  settle  accounts  with  M'Mur- 
rogh.  But  by  this  time  O'Ruarc,  apparently  only  too 
glad  to  have  such  a  pretext  and  opportunity  for  a  stroke 
at  his  mortal  foe,  had  assembled  a  powerful  army  and 
marched  upon  M'Murrogh  from  the  north,  while  Rod- 
erick approached  him  from  the  south.  Diarmid,  thus 
surrounded,  and  deserted  by  most  of  his  own  people,  out- 
witted and  overmatched  on  all  sides,  saw  that  he  was  a 
ruined  man.  He  abandoned  the  few  followers  yet  remain- 
ing to  him,  fled  to  the  nearest  seaport,  and,  with  a  heart 
bursting  with  the  most  deadly  passions,  sailed  for  Eng- 
land (A.D.  1168),  vowing  vengeance,  black,  bitter,  and 
terrible,  on  all  that  he  left  behind ! 

''A  solemn  sentence  of  banishment  was  publicly  pro- 
nounced against  him  by  the  assembled  princes,  and  Mor- 
rogh,  his  cousin  —  commonly  called  ^  Morrogh  na  Gael^^ 
(or  '  of  the  Irish  '),  to  distinguish  him  from  '  Morrogh  na 
Gall '  (or  '  of  the  Foreigners')  —  was  inaugurated  in  his 
stead."  1 

Straightway  he  sought  out  the  English  king,  who  was 
just  then  in  Aquitaine  quelling  a  revolt  of  the  nobles  in 
that  portion  of  his  possessions.  M'Murrogh  laid  before 
Henry  a  most  piteous  recital  of  his  wrongs  and  grievances, 
appealed  to  him  for  justice  and  for  aid,  inviting  him  to 
enter  Ireland,  which  he  was  sure  most  easily  to  reduce  to 
his  sway,  and  finally  offering  to  become  his  most  submissive 
vassal  if  his  majesty  would  but  aid  him  in  recovering  the 
possessions  from  which  he  had  been  expelled.  Henry," 
as  one  of  our  historians  justly  remarks,  "must  have  been 
forcibly  struck  by  such  an  invitation  to  carry  out  a  project 
which  he  had  long  entertained,  and  for  which  he  had  been 


1  M'Gee, 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


107 


making  grave  preparations  long  before."  He  was  too  busy 
himself,  however,  just  then  to  enter  upon  the  project ;  but 
he  gave  M'Murrogh  a  royal  letter  or  proclamation  author- 
ising such  of  his  subjects  as  might  so  desire  to  aid  the 
views  of  the  Irish  fugitive.  Diarmid  hurried  back  to 
England,  and  had  all  publicity  given  to  this  proclamation 
in  his  favour ;  but  though  he  made  the  most  alluring  offers 
of  reward  and  booty,  it  was  a  long  time  before  he  found 
any  one  to  espouse  his  cause.  At  length  Robert  Fitz- 
stephen,  a  Norman  relative  of  the  prince  of  North  Wales, 
just  then  held  in  prison  by  his  Cambrian  kinsman,  was 
released  or  brought  out  of  prison  by  M'Murrogh,  on  con- 
dition of  undertaking  his  service.  Through  Fitzstephen 
there  came  into  the  enterprise  several  other  knights,  Mau- 
rice Fitzgerald,  Meyler  Fitzhenry,  and  others  —  all  of 
them  men  of  supreme  daring,  but  of  needy  circumstances. 
Eventually  there  joined  one  who  was  destined  to  take 
command  of  them  all,  —  Richard  de  Clare,  earl  of  Pem- 
broke, commonly  called  "  Strongbow ; "  a  man  of  ruined 
fortune,  needy,  greedy,  unscrupulous,  and  ready  for  any 
desperate  adventure;  possessing  unquestionable  military 
skill  and  reckless  daring,  and  having  a  tolerably  strong 
following  of  like  adventurous  spirits  amongst  the  knights 
of  the  Welsh  marches  —  in  fine,  just  the  man  for  Diarmid's 
purpose.  The  terms  were  soon  settled.  Strongbow  and 
his  companions  undertook  to  raise  a  force  of  adventurers, 
proceed  to  Ireland  with  M'Murrogh,  and  reinstate  him  in 
his  principality.  M'Murrogh  was  to  bestow  on  Strong- 
bow (then  a  widower  between  fifty  and  sixty  years  of  age) 
his  daughter  Eva  in  marriage,  with  succession  to  the  throne 
of  Leinster.  Large  grants  of  land  also  were  to  be  dis- 
tributed amongst  the  adventurers. 

Now,  Diarmid  knew  that  "  succession  to  the  throne  " 
was  not  a  matter  which  any  king  in  Ireland,  whether  pro- 
vincial or  national,  at  any  time  could  bestow ;  the  mon- 


108 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


archy  being  elective  out  of  the  members  of  the  reigning 
family.  Even  if  he  was  himself  at  the  time  an  full  legal 
possession  of  "  the  throne  of  Leinster,"  he  could  not  prom- 
ise, secure,  or  bequeath  it,  as  of  rights  even  to  his  own  son. 

In  the  next  place,  Diarmid  knew  that  his  offers  of 
''grants  of  land"  struck  directly  and  utterly  at  the  exist- 
ing land  system,  the  basis  of  all  society  in  Ireland.  For, 
according  to  the  Irish  constitution  and  laws  for  a  thousand 
years,  the  fee-simple  or  ownership  of  the  soil  was  vested  in 
the  sept,  tribe,  or  clan ;  its  use  or  occupancy  (by  the  indi- 
vidual members  of  the  sept  or  others)  being  only  regulated 
on  behalf  of  and  in  the  interest  of  the  whole  sept,  by  the 
elected  king  for  the  time  being.  "  Tribe  land  "  could  not 
be  alienated  unless  by  the  king,  with  the  sanction  of  the 
sept.  The  users  and  occupiers  were,  so  to  speak,  a  coop- 
erative society  of  agriculturists,  who,  as  a  body  or  a  com- 
munity, owned  the  soil  they  tilled,  while  individually 
renting  it  from  that  body  or  community  under  its  admin- 
istrative official  —  the  king. 

While  Strongbow  and  his  confederates  were  completing 
their  arrangements  in  Chester,  M'Murrogh  crossed  over  to 
his  native  Wexford  privately  to  prepare  the  way  there  for 
their  reception.  It  would  seem  that  no  whisper  had 
reached  Ireland  of  his  movements,  designs,  proclamations, 
and  j)reparations  on  the  other  side  of  the  channel.  The 
wolf  assumed  the  sheep's  clothing.  M'Murrogh  feigned 
great  humility  and  contrition,  and  pretended  to  aspire  only 
to  the  recovery,  by  grace  and  favour,  of  his  immediate 
patrimony  of  Hy-Kinsella.  Amongst  his  own  immediate 
clansmen,  no  doubt,  he  found  a  friendly  meeting  and  a 
ready  following,  and,  more  generally,  a  feeling  somewhat 
of  commiseration  for  one  deemed  to  be  now  so  fallen,  so 
helpless,  so  humiliated.  This  secured  him  from  very  close 
observation,  and  greatly  favoured  the  preparations  he  was 
stealthily  m::kii]g  to  meet  the  Norman  expedition  with 
stout  help  on  the  shore. 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


109 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

HOW  THE  NORMAX  ADVENTURERS  GOT  A  FOOTHOLD  ON 
IRISH  SOIL. 

^^^^^HE  fatal  hour  was  now  at  hand.  Early  in  the 
month  of  May,  a  small  flotilla  of  strange  vessels 
ran  into  a  little  creek  on  the  Wexford  coast,  near 
Bannow,  and  disembarked  an  armed  force  upon 
the  shore.  This  was  the  advanced  guard  of  the  Norman 
invasion ;  a  party  of  thirty  knights,  sixtj^  men  in  armour, 
and  three  hundred  footmen,  under  Robert  Fitzstephen. 
Next  day  at  the  same  point  of  disembarkation  arrived 
Maurice  de  Prendergast,  a  Welsh  gentleman  who  had 
joined  the  enterprise,  bringing  with  him  an  additional 
force.  Camping  on  the  coast,  they  quickly  dispatched  a 
courier  to  M'Murrogh  to  say  that  they  had  come.  Diarmid 
hastened  to  the  spot  with  all  the  men  he  could  rally.  The 
joint  force  at  once  marched  upon  and  laid  siege  to  Wex- 
ford, which  town,  after  a  gallant  defence,  capitulated  to 
them.  Elate  with  this  important  victory,  and  strength- 
ened in  numbers,  Diarmid  now  marched  into  Ossory. 
Here  he  was  confronted  by  Fitzpatrick,  prince  of  Ossory, 
commanding,  however,  a  force  quite  inferior  to  M'Mur- 
rogh's.  A  sanguinary  engagement  ensued.  The  Ossorians 
bravely  held  their  own  throughout  the  day,  until  decoyed 
from  their  chosen  position  into  an  open  ground  where  the 
Norman  cavalry  had  full  play,  the  "poise  of  the  beam" 
was  turned  against  them ;  they  were  thrown  into  confu- 
sion, pressed  by  the  enemy,  and  at  length  overthrown  with 
great  slaughter. 

Roderick  the  Second,  titular  Ard-Ri,  now  awakened  to 
the  necessity  of  interposing  with  the  national  forces ;  not 


110 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


as  against  an  invasion :  for  at  this  period,  and  indeed  for 
some  time  afterwards,  none  of  the  Irish  princes  attached 
such  a  character  or  meaning  to  the  circumstance  'that 
M'Murrogh  had  enlisted  into  his  service  some  men  of 
England.  It  was  to  check  M'Murrogh,  the  deposed  king 
of  Leinster,  in  his  hostile  proceedings,  that  the  Ard-Ri 
summoned  the  national  forces  to  meet  him  at  the  Hill  of 
Tara.  The  provincial  princes,  with  their  respective  forces, 
assembled  at  his  call ;  but  had  scarcely  done  so,  when, 
owing  to  some  contention,  the  northern  contingent,  under 
Mac  Dunlev}^  prince  of  Ulidia,  withdrew.  With  the 
remainder,  however,  Roderick  marched  upon  Ferns,  the 
Lagenian  capital,  where  M'Murrogh  had  entrenched  him- 
self. Roderick  appears  to  have  exhibited  weakness  and  va- 
cillation in  the  crisis,  when  boldness,  promptitude,  and 
vigour  were  so  vitally  requisite.  He  began  to  parley  and 
diplomatise  with  M'Murrogh,  who  cunningly  feigned  wil- 
lingness to  agree  to  any  terms ;  for  all  he  secretly  desired 
was  to  gain  time  till  Strongbow  and  the  full  force  from 
Wales  would  be  at  his  side.  M'Murrogh,  with  much  show 
of  moderation  and  humility,  agreed  to  a  treaty  with  the 
Ard-Ri,  by  which  the  sovereignty  of  Leinster  was  restored 
to  him ;  and  he,  on  the  other  hand,  solemnly  bound  him- 
self by  a  secret  clause,  guaranteed  by  his  own  son  as 
hostage,  that  he  would  bring  over  no  more  foreigners  to 
serve  in  his  army. 

No  suspicion  of  any  such  scheme  as  an  invasion  seems 
even  for  an  instant  to  have  crossed  the  monarch's  mind  ; 
yet  he  wisely  saw  the  danger  of  importing  a  foreign  force 
into  the  country.  He  and  the  other  princes  really  be- 
lieved that  the  only  object  M'Murrogh  had  was  to  regain 
the  sovereignty  of  Leinster. 

The  crafty  and  perfidious  Diarmid  in  this  treaty  gained 
the  object  he  sought  —  time.  Scarcely  had  Roderick  and 
the  national  forces  retired,  than  the  Leinster  king,  hearing 


The  stoby  of  Ireland, 


Hi 


that  a  further  Norman  contingent,  under  Maurice  Fitz- 
gerald, had  landed  at  Wexford,  marched  upon  Dublin  — 
then  held  by  the  Danes  under  their  prince  Hasculf  Mac 
Turkill,  tributary  to  the  Irish  Ard-Ri  —  and  set  up  a  claim 
to  the  monarchy  of  Ireland.  The  struggle  was  now  fully 
inaugurated.  Soon  after  a  third  Norman  force,  under 
Raymond  le  Gros  (or  "  the  Fat "),  landed  in  W aterford 
estuary,  on  the  Wexford  side,  and  hastily  fortified  them- 
selves on  the  rock  of  Dundonolf,  awaiting  the  main  force 
under  Strongbow. 

And  now  we  encounter  the  evil  and  terrible  results  of 
the  riven  and  disorganized  state  of  Ireland,  to  which  I 
have  already  sufficiently  adverted.  The  hour  at  last  had 
come,  when  the  curse  was  to  work,  when  the  punishment 
was  to  fall ! 

It  was  at  such  a  moment  as  this — just  as  Roderick  was 
again  preparing  to  take  the  field  to  crush  the  more  fully 
developed  designs  of  Diarmid  —  that  Donogh  O'Brien, 
Prince  of  Thomond,  chose  to  throw  off  allegiance  to  the 
Ard-Ri,  and  precipitate  a  civil  war  in  the  very  face  of  a 
foreign  invasion  !  .  Meanwhile,  Strongbow  was  on  the  point 
of  embarking  at  Mil  ford  Haven  with  a  most  formidable 
force,  when  King  Henry,  much  mistrusting  the  adventur- 
ous and  powerful  knight  —  and  having,  secretly,  his  own 
designs  about  Ireland,  which  he  feared  the  ambition  of 
Strongbow,  if  successful,  might  thwart  —  imperatively 
forbade  his  sailing.  Strongbow  disregarded  the  royal 
mandate,  and  set  sail  with  his  fleet.  He  landed  at  Water- 
ford  (23d  August,  1171),  and  joined  by  the  force  of  Ray- 
mond, which  had  been  cooped  up  in  their  fort  on  the  rock 
of  Dundonolf,  laid  siege  to  the  city.  Waterford,  like 
Dublin,  was  a  Dano-Irish  city,  and  was  governed  and 
commanded  by  Reginald,  a  prince  of  Danish  race.  The 
neighbouring  Irish  under  O'Felan,  prince  of  the  Deisi, 
patriotically  hurried  to  the  assistance  of  the  Danish  citi- 


112 


TH^  STOUT  OF  IRELAND. 


zens ;  and  the  city  was  defended  with  a  heroism  equal  to 
that  of  the  three  hundred  at  Thermopylae.  Again  and 
again  the  assailants  were  hurled  from  the  walls ;  but  at 
length  the  Norman  sieging  skill  prevailed ;  a  breach  was 
effected ;  the  enemy  poured  into  the  town,  and  a  scene  of 
butchery  shocking  to  contemplate  ensued.  Diarmid  ar- 
rived just  in  time  to  congratulate  Strongbow  on  this 
important  victory.  He  had  brought  his  daughter  Eva 
with  him,  and  amidst  the  smoking  and  blood-stained  ruins 
of  the  city  the  nuptials  of  the  Norman  knight  and  the 
Irish  princess  were  celebrated. 

Strongbow  and  M^Murrogh  now  marched  for  Dublin. 
The  Ard-Ri,  who  had  meantime  taken  the  field,  made  an 
effort  to  intercept  them,  but  he  was  out-manoeuvred,  and 
they  reached  and  commenced  to  siege  the  city.  The  citi- 
zens sought  a  parley.  The  fate  of  Waterford  had  struck 
terror  into  them.  They  dispatched  to  the  besiegers'  camp 
as  negotiator  or  mediator,  their  archbishop,  Laurence, 
or  Lorcan  O'Tuahal,  the  first  prelate  of  Dublin  of  Irish 
origin. 

This  illustrious  man,  canonized  both  by  sanctity  and 
patriotism,  was  then  in  the  thirty-ninth  year  of  his  age, 
and  the  ninth  of  his  episcopate.  His  father  was  lord  of 
Imayle  and  chief  of  his  clan ;  his  sister  had  been  wife  of 
Dermid  and  mother  of  Eva,  the  prize  bride  of  Earl  Richard. 
He  himself  had  been  a  hostage  with  Dermid  in  his  youth, 
and  afterwards  abbot  of  Glendalough,  the  most  celebrated 
monastic  city  of  Leinster.  He  stood,  therefore,  to  the  be- 
sieged, being  their  chief  pastor,  in  the  relation  of  a  father ; 
to  Dermid,  and  strangely  enough  to  Strongbow  also,  as 
brother-in-law  and  uncle  by  marriage.  A  fitter  ambassa- 
dor could  not  be  found. 

"  Maurice  Regan,  the  '  Latiner,'  or  secretary  of  Dermid, 
had  advanced  to  the  walls  and  summoned  the  city  to  sur- 
render, and  deliver  up  'thirty  pledges'  to  his  master  their 


THE  STORY  OF  IBELAND. 


113 


lawful  prince.  Asculph,  son  of  Torcall,  was  in  favour  of 
the  surrender,  but  the  citizens  could  not  agree  among 
themselves  as  to  hostages.  No  one  was  willing  to.  trust 
himself  to  the  notoriously  untrustworthy  Dermid.  The 
Archbishop  was  then  sent  out  on  the  part  of  the  citizens  to 
arrange  the  terms  in  detail.  He  was  received  with  all 
reverence  in  the  camp,  but  while  he  was  deliberating  with 
the  commanders  without,  and  the  townsmen  were  anxiously 
awaiting  his  return,  Milo  de  Cogan  and  Raymond  the  Fat, 
seizing  the  opportunity,  broke  into  the  city  at  the  head  of 
their  companies,  and  began  to  put  the  inhabitants  ruth- 
lessly to  the  sword.  They  were  soon  followed  by  the 
whole  force  eager  for  massacre  and  pillage.  The  Arch- 
bishop hastened  back  to  endeavour  to  stay  the  havoc  which 
was  being  made  of  his  people.  He  threw  himself  before 
the  infuriated  Irish  and  Normans,  he  threatened,  he  de- 
nounced, he  bared  his  own  breast  to  the  swords  of  the 
assassins.  All  to  little  purpose  :  the  blood  fury  exhausted 
itself  before  peace  settled  over  the  citj\  Its  Danish  chief 
Asculph,  with  many  of  his  followers,  escaped  to  their  ships, 
and  fled  to  the  Isle  of  Man  and  the  Hebrides  in  search  of 
succour  and  revenge.  Roderick,  unprepared  to  besiege  the 
enemy  who  had  thus  outmarched  and  outwitted  him,  at 
that  season  of  the  year  —  it  could  not  be  earlier  than  Octo- 
ber—  broke  up  his  encampment  at  Clondalkin  and  retired 
to  Connaught.  Earl  Richard  having  appointed  De  Cogan 
his  governor  of  Dublin,  followed  on  the  rear  of  the  retreat- 
ing Ard-Ri,  at  the  instigation  of  M'Murrogh,  burning  and 
plundering  the  chilrches  of  Kells,  Clonard,  and  Slane,  and 
carr}4ng  off  the  hostages  of  East-Meath."  ^ 

Roderick,  having  first  vainly  noticed  M'Murrogh  to  re- 
turn to  his  allegiance  on  forfeit  of  the  life  of  his  hostage, 
beheaded  the  son  of  Diarmid,  who  had  been  given  as  sure- 


1  M'Gee, 


114 


TBE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


ty  for  his  father's  good  faith  at  the  treaty  of  Ferns.  Soon 
after  Al  Murrogh  himself  died,  and  his  end,  as  recorded  in 
the  chronicles,  was  truly  horrible.  "  His  death,  which  took 
place  in  less  than  a  year  after  his  sacrilegious  church  burn- 
ings in  Meath,  is  described  as  being  accompanied  by  fear- 
ful evidence  of  divine  displeasure.  He  died  intestate,  and 
without  the  sacraments  of  the  Church.  His  disease  was 
of  some  unknown  and  loathsome  kind,  and  was  attended 
with  insufferable  pain,  which,  acting  on  the  naturally  sav- 
age violence  of  his  temper,  rendered  him  so  furious,  that 
his  ordinary  attendants  must  have  been  afraid  to  approach 
him,  and  his  body  became  at  once  a  putrid  mass,  so  that 
its  presence  above  ground  could  not  be  endured.  Some 
historians  suggest  that  this  account  of  his  death  may  have 
been  the  invention  of  enemies,  yet  it  is  so  consistent  with 
what  we  know  of  M'Murrogh's  character  and  career  from 
other  sources,  as  to  be  noways  incredible.  He  was  at  his 
death  eighty-one  years  of  age,  and  is  known  in  Irish  his- 
tory as  Diarmaid-na-Gall,  or  Dermot  of  the  Foreigners.*' 

An  incident  well  calculated  to  win  our  admiration  pre- 
sents itself,  in  the  midst  of  the  dismal  chapter  I  have  just 
sketched  in  outline ;  an  instance  of  chivalrous  honour  and 
good  faith  on  the  part  of  a  Norman  lord  in  behalf  of  an 
Irish  chieftain !  Maurice  de  Prendergast  was  deputed  by 
Earl  "  Strongbow  "  as  envoy  to  Mac  Gilla  Patrick,  prince  of 
Ossory,  charged  to  invite  him  to  a  conference  in  the  Nor- 
man camp.  Prendergast  undertook  to  prevail  upon  the 
Ossorian  prince  to  comply,  on  receiving  from  Strongbow  a 
solemn  pledge  that  good  faith  would  be  observed  towards 
the  Irish  chief,  and  that  he  should  be  free  and  safe  coming 
and  returning.  Relying  on  this  pledge,  Prendergast  bore 
the  invitation  to  Mac  Gilla  Patrick,  and  prevailed  upon 
him  to  accompany  him  to  the  earl.  Understanding,  how- 
ever, during  the  conference,"  says  the  historian,  'Hhat 
treachery  was  about  to  be  used  towards  Mac  Gilla  Patrick, 


TEE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


115 


he  rushed  into  Earl  Strongbow's  presence,  and  'sware  by 
the  cross  of  his  sword  that  no  man  there  that  day  should 
dare  lay  handes  on  the  kj'ng  of  Ossery.'  "  And  well  kept 
he  his  word.  Out  of  the  camp,  when  the  conference  ended, 
rode  the  Irish  chief,  and  by  his  side,  good  sword  in  hand, 
that  glorious  type  of  honour  and  chivalry,  Prendergast, 
ever  since  named  in  Irish  tradition  and  history  as  the 
Faithful  Norman  "  —  faithful  among  the  faithless  "  we 
might  truly  say  !  Scrupulously  did  he  redeem  his  word  to 
the  Irish  prince.  He  not  only  conducted  him  safely  back 
to  his  own  camp,  but,  encountering  on  the  way  a  force 
belonging  to  Strongbow's  ally,  O'Brien,  returning  from  a 
foray  into  Ossory,  he  attacked  and  defeated  them.  That 
night  "  the  Faithful  Norman  "  remained,  as  the  old  clironi- 
cler  has  it,  in  the  woods,"  the  guest  of  the  Irish  chief, 
and  next  day  returned  to  the  English  lines.  This  truly 
pleasing  episode  —  this  little  oasis  of  chivalrous  honour  in 
the  midst  of  a  trackless  expanse  of  treacherous  and  ruth- 
less warfare,  has  been  made  the  subject  of  a  short  poem  by 
Mr.  Aubrey  De  Vere,  in  his  Lyrical  Chronicle  of  Ireland :  — 

THE  FAITHFUL  NORMALS". 

Praise  to  the  valiant  and  faithful  foe  ! 

Give  us  noble  foes,  not  the  friend  who  lies ! 
We  dread  the  drugged  cup,  not  the  open  blow : 

We  dread  the  old  hate  in  the  new  disguise. 

To  Ossory's  king  they  had  pledged  their  word : 

He  stood  in  their  camp,  and  their  pledge  they  broke ; 

Then  Maurice  the  Norman  upraised  his  sword ; 
The  cross  on  its  hilt  he  kiss'd,  and  spoke  : 

"  So  long  as  this  sword  or  this  arm  hath  might, 
I  swear  by  the  cross  which  is  lord  of  all, 
By  the  faith  and  honour  of  noble  and  knight, 

Who  touches  you,  Prince,  by  this  hand  shall  fall  I " 


116 


THE  STOUY  OF  IRELAND. 


So  side  by  side  through  the  throng  they  passed ; 

And  Eire  gave  praise  to  the  just  and  true. 
Brave  foe  !  the  past  truth  heals  at  last : 

There  is  room  in  the  great  heart  of  Eire  for  you! 

It  is  nigh  seven  hundred  3^ears  since  "  the  Faithful 
Norman  "  linked  the  name  of  Prendergast  to  honour  and 
chivahy  on  Irish  soil.  Those  who  have  read  that  truly 
remarkable  work,  Prendergast's  Cromwellian  Settlement 
of  Ireland^  will  conclude  that  the  spirit  of  Maurice  is  still 
to  be  found  amongst  some  of  those  who  bear  his  name. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

HOW  HENRY  RECALLED  THE  ADVENTURER"S.  HOW  HE 
CAME  OVER  HIMSELF  TO  PUNISH  THEM  AND  BEFRIEND 
THE  IRISH. 

TRONGBOW  having  now  assumed  the  sover- 
eignty of  Leinster,  King  Henry's  jealousy  burst 
into  a  flamCe  He  issued  a  proclamation  ordering 
Strongbow  and  every  other  Englishman  in  Ire- 
land to  return  forthwith  to  England  on  pain  of  outlawry ! 
Strongbow  hurriedly  dispatched  ambassador  after  ambas- 
sador to  soothe  Henry's  anger;  but  all  was  vain.  At  length 
he  hastened  to  England  himself,  and  found  the  English 
sovereign  assembling  an  enormous  fleet  and  army  with  the 
intent  of  himself  invading  Ireland  !  The  crafty  knight 
humiliated  himself  to  the  utmost ;  yet  it  was  with  great 
difficulty  the  king  was  induced  even  to  grant  him  audience. 
When  he  did,  Strongbow,  partly  by  his  own  most  abject 
protestations  of  submission,  and  partly  by  the  aid  of  medi- 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


117 


ators,  received  the  royal  pardon  for  his  contumacy,  and 
was  confirmed  in  his  grants  of  land  in  Wexford, 

Early  in  October,  1171,  Henry  sailed  with  his  armada 
of  over  four  hundred  ships,  with  a  powerful  army ;  and  on 
the  18th  of  that  month  landed  at  Crooch,  in  Waterford 
harbour.  In  his  train  came  the  flower  of  the  Norman 
knights,  captains,  and  commanders ;  and  even  in  the  day 
of  Ireland's  greatest  unity  and  strength  she  would  have 
found  it  difficult  to  cope  with  the  force  which  the  English 
king  now  led  into  the  land. 

Coming  in  such  kingly  power,  and  with  all  the  pomp 
and  pageantry  with  which  he  was  particularly  careful  to 
surround  himself — studiously  polished,  politic,  plausible, 
dignified,  and  courtierlike  towards  such  of  the  Irish  princes 
as  came  within  his  presence  —  proclaimiing  himself  by  word 
and  act,  angry  with  the  lawless  and  ruthless  proceedings 
of  Strongbow,  Raymond,  Fitzstephen,  and  Fitzgerald  — 
Henry  seems  to  have  appeared  to  the  Irish  of  the  neigh- 
bourhood something  like  an  illustrious  deliverer  !  They 
had  full  and  public  knowledge  of  his  strong  proclamation 
against  Strongbow  and  his  companions,  calling  upon  all 
the  Norman  auxiliaries  of  Dermot  to  return  forthwith  to 
Englayid  on  pain  of  outlawry.  On  every  occasion  subse- 
quent to  his  landing  Henry  manifested  a  like  feeling  and 
purpose ;  so  much  so  that  the  Irish  of  Wexford,  who  had 
taken  Fitzstephen  prisoner,  sent  a  deputation  to  deliver 
him  up  to  be  dealt  with  by  Henry,  and  the  king  imprisoned 
liim  forthwith  in  Reginald's  tower  to  await  further  sen- 
tence !  In  fine,  Henry  pretended  to  come  as  an  angry  king 
to  chastise  his  own  contumacious  subjects  —  the  Norman 
auxiliaries  of  the  Leinster  prince  —  and  to  adjudicate  upon 
the  complicated  ii^feues  which  had  arisen  out  of  the  treaties 
of  that  prince  with  them.  This  most  smooth  and  plausible 
hypocrisy,  kept  up  with  admirable  skill,  threw  the  Irish 
vUterl^  off  their  guard,  and  made  them  regard  his  visit  a^ 


118 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


the  reverse  of  hostile  or  undesirable.  As  I  have  already- 
pointed  out,  the  idea  of  national  unity  was  practically 
defunct  among  the  Irish  at  the  time.  For  more  than  a 
hundred  years  it  had  been  very  much  a  game  of  "  every 
one  for  himself"  (varied  with  ''every  man  against  every- 
body else  ")  with  them.  There  was  no  stable  or  enduriiir; 
national  government  or  central  authority  in  the  land,  siuLt^ 
Brian's  time.  The  nakedly  hostile  and  sanguinary  inva- 
sion of  Strongbow  they  were  all  ready  enough,  in  their 
disintegrated  and  ill-organized  way,  to  confront  and  bravely 
resist  to  the  death;  and  had  Henry  on  this  occasion  really 
appeared  to  them  to  come  as  an  invader,  they  would  have 
instantly  encountered  him  sword  in  hand ;  a  truth  most 
amply  proven  by  the  fact  that  when  subsequently  (but 
too  late}  they  found  out  the  real  nature  of  the  English 
designs,  not  all  the  power  of  united,  compact,  and  mighty 
England  was  able,  for  hundreds  and  hundreds  of  years,  to 
subdue  the  broken  and  weakened,  deceived  and  betrayed, 
but  still  heroic  Irish  nation. 

Attracted  by  the  fame  of  Henry's  magnanimity,  the 
splendour  of  his  power,  the  (supposed)  justice  and  friend- 
liness of  his  intentions,  the  local  princes  one  by  one  arrived 
at  his  temporary  court ;  where  they  were  dazzled  by  the 
pomp,  and  caressed  by  the  courtier  affabilities,  of  the  great 
English  king.  To  several  of  them  it  seems  very  quickly 
to  have  occurred,  that,  considering  the  ruinously  distracted 
and  demoralized  state  of  the  country,  and  the  absence  of 
any  strong  central  governmental  authority  able  to  protect 
any  one  of  them  against  the  capricious  lawlessness  of  his 
neighbours,  the  very  best  thing  they  could  do  — possibly  for 
the  interests  of  the  whole  country,  certainly  for  their  own 
particular  personal  or  local  interests  —  would  be  to  consti- 
tute Henry  a  friendly  arbitrator,  regulator,  and  protector, 
on  a  much  wider  scale  than  (as  they  imagined)  he  intended. 
The  wily  Englishman  only  wanted  the  whisper  of  such  a 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


119 


desirable  pretext.  It  was  just  what  he  had  been  anglmg 
for.  Yes ;  he,  the  mighty  and  magnanimous,  the  just  and 
friendly,  English  sovereign  would  accept  the  position. 
They  should  all,  to  this  end,  recognize  him  as  a  nominal 
liege  lord ;  and  then  he,  on  the  other  hand,  would  under- 
take to  regulate  all  their  differences,  tranquillize  the  island, 
and  guarantee  to  each  individual  secure  possession  of  his 
own  territory  I 

Thus,  by  a  smooth  and  plausible  diplomacy,  Henry 
found  himself,  with  the  consent  or  at  the  request  of  the 
southern  Irish  princes,  in  a  position  which  he  never  could 
have  attained,  except  through  seas  of  blood,  if  he  had 
allowed  them  to  suspect  that  he  came  as  a  hostile  invader, 
not  as  a  neighbour  and  powerful  friend. 

From  Waterford  he  marched  to  Cashel,  and  from  Cashel 
to  Dublin,  receiving  on  the  way  visits  from  the  several 
local  princes ;  and  now  that  the  news  spread  that  the  mag- 
nanimous English  king  had  consented  to  be  their  arbitrator, 
protector,  and  liege  lord,  every  one  of  them  that  once 
visited  Henry  went  away  wheedled  into  adhesion  to  the 
scheme.  Amongst  the  rest  was  Donald  O'Brien,  prince  of 
Thomond,  who  the  more  readily  gave  in  his  adhesion  to 
the  new  idea,  for  that  he,  as  I  have  already  mentioned  of 
him,  had  thrown  off  allegiance  to  Roderick,  the  titular 
Ard-Ri,  and  felt  the  necessity  of  protection  by  some  one 
against  the  probable  consequences  of  his  conduct.  Arrived 
at  Dublin,  Henry  played  the  king  on  a  still  grander  scale. 
A  vast  palace  of  wicker-work  was  erected  ^  for  his  especial 
residence ;  and  here,  during  the  winter,  he  kept  up  a  con- 
tinued round  of  feasting,  hospitality,  pomp,  and  pageantry. 
Every  effort  was  used  to  attract  the  Irish  princes  to  the 
royal  court,  and  once  attracted  thither,  Henry  made  them 
the  object  of  the  most  flattering  attentions.    They  were 

1  On  the  spot  where  now  stands  the  Protestant  chi;ij:ch  of  St.  Andyew, 
St,  4i?4r^w  Street,  Dublin, 


120 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


made  to  feel  painfully  the  contrast  between  the  marked 
superiority  in  elegance,  wealth,  civilization  —  especially  in 
new  species  of  armour  and  weapons,  and  in  new  methods 
of  war  and  military  tactics  —  presented  by  the  Norman- 
English,  and  the  backwardness  of  their  own  country  in 
each  particular;  a  change  wrought,  as  they  well  knew, 
altogether  or  mainly  within  the  last  hundred  and  fifty 
years ! 

Where  was  the  titular  Ard-Ri  all  this  time  ?  Away  in 
his  western  home,  sullen  and  perplexed,  scarcely  knowing 
what  to  think  of  this  singular  and  unprecedented  turn  of 
affairs.  Henry  tried  hard  to  persuade  Roderick  to  visit 
him ;  but  neither  Roderick  nor  any  of  the  northern  princes 
could  be  persuaded  to  an  interview  with  the  English  king. 
On  the  contrary,  the  Ard-Ri,  when  he  heard  that  Henry 
was  likely  to  come  westward  and  visit  him,  instantly 
mustered  an  army  and  boldly  took  his  stand  at  Athlone, 
resolved  to  defend  the  integrity  and  independence  of  at 
least  his  own  territory.  Henry,  however,  disclaimed  the 
idea  of  conflict ;  and,  once  again  trusting  more  to  smooth 
diplomacy  than  to  the  sword,  dispatched  two  ambassadors 
to  the  Irish  titular  monarch.  The  result  was,  according 
to  some  English  versions  of  very  doubtful  and  suspicious 
authority,  that  Roderick  so  far  came  in  to  the  scheme  of 
constituting  Henry  general  suzerain,  as  to  agree  to  offer 
it  no  opposition  on  condition  (readily  acceded  to  by  the 
ambassadors)  that  his  own  sovereignty,  as,  at  least,  next 
in  supremacy  to  Henry,  should  be  recognized.  But  there 
is  no  reliable  proof  that  Roderick  made  any  such  conces- 
sion, conditional  or  unconditional ;  and  most  Irish  histo- 
rians reject  the  story. 

Having  spent  the  Christmas  in  Dublin,  and  devoted  the 
winter  season  to  feasting  and  entertainment  on  a  right 
royal  scale,  Henry  now  set  about  exercising  his  authority 
as  general  pacificator  and  regulator ;  and  his  fet  exercise 


THE  STORY  OF  IBELANB. 


121 


of  it  was  marked  by  that  profound  policy  and  sagacity 
which  seem  to  have  guided  all  his  acts  since  he  landed. 
He  began,  not  by  openly  aggrandising  himself  or  his  fol- 
lowers —  that  might  have  excited  suspicion  —  but  by  evi- 
dencing a  deep  and  earnest  solicitude  for  the  state  of 
religion  in  the  country.  This  strengthened  the  opinion 
that  estimated  him  as  a  noble,  magnanimous,  unselfish,  and 
friendly  protector,  and  it  won  for  him  the  favour  of  the 
country.  As  his  first  exercise  of  general  authority  in  the 
land,  he  convened  a  synod  at  Cashel ;  and  at  this  synod, 
the  decrees  of  which  are  known,  measures  were  devised 
for  the  repression  and  correction  of  such  abuses  and  irreg- 
ularities in  connection  with  religion  as  were  known  to 
exist  in  the  country.  Yet,  strange  to  say,  we  find  by  the 
statutes  and  decrees  of  this  synod  nothing  of  a  doctrinal 
nature  requiring  correction ;  nothing  more  serious  calling 
for  regulation  than  what  is  referred  to  in  the  following 
enactments  then  made  :  — 

1.  That  the  prohibition  of  marriage  within  the  canoni- 
cal degrees  of  consanguinity  be  enforced. 

2.  That  children  should  be  regularly  catechised  before 
the  church  door  in  each  parish. 

3.  That  children  should  be  baptized  in  the  public  fonts 
of  the  parish  churches. 

4.  That  regular  tithes  should  be  paid  to  the  clergy 
rather  than  irregular  donations  from  time  to  time. 

5.  That  church  lands  should  be  exempt  from  the  exac- 
tion of    livery,"  etc. 

6.  That  the  clergy  should  not  be  liable  to  any  share  of 
the  eric  or  blood-fine,  levied  off  the  kindred  of  a  man 
guilty  of  homicide. 

7.  A  decree  regulating  wills. 

Such  and  no  more  were  the  reforms  found  to  be  neces- 
sary in  the  Irish  Church  under  Henry's  own  eye,  notwith- 
standing all  the  dreadful  stories  he  had  been  hearing,  and 


122 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


which  he  (not  without  addition  by  exaggeration)  had 
been  so  carefully  forwarding  to  Rome  for  years  before! 
Truth  and  candour,  however,  require  the  confession,  that 
the  reason  why  there  was  so  little,  comparatively,  needing 
to  be  set  right  just  then,  was  because  there  had  been  dur- 
ing, and  ever  since,  St.  Malachy's  time  vigorous  efforts 
on  the  part  of  the  Irish  prelates,  priests,  princes,  and  peo- 
ple themselves,  to  restore  and  repair  the  ruins  caused  by 
long  years  of  bloody  convulsion. 

The  synod  over,  Henry  next  turned  his  attention  to 
civil  affairs.  He  held  a  royal  court  at  Lismore,  whereat 
he  made  numerous  civil  appointments  and  regulations  for 
the  government  of  the  territories  and  cities  possessed  by 
the  Norman  allies  of  the  late  prince  of  Leinster,  or  those 
surrendered  by  Irish  princes  to  himself. 

While  Henry  was  thus  engaged  in  adroitly  causing  his 
authority  to  be  gradually  recognized,  respected,  and 
obeyed  in  the  execution  of  peaceful,  wise,  and  politic 
measures  for  the  general  tranquillity  and  welfare  of  the 
country  —  for,  from  the  hour  of  his  landing,  he  had  ]iot 
spilled  one  drop  of  Irish  blood,  nor  harshly  treated  a  na- 
tive of  Ireland  —  he  suddenly  found  himself  summoned  to 
England  by  gathering  troubles  there.  Papal  commission- 
ers had  arrived  in  his  realm  of  Normandy  to  investigate 
the  murder  of  St.  Thomas  a  Becket,  and  threatening  to 
lay  England  under  an  interdict,  if  Henry  could  not  clear 
or  purge  himself  of  guilty  part  in  that  foul  deed.  Tliere 
was  nothing  for  it,  but  to  hasten  thither  with  all  speed, 
abandoning  for  the  time  his  Irish  plans  and  schemes,  but 
taking  the  best  means  he  could  to  provide  meantime  for 
the  retention  of  his  power  and  authority  in  the  realm  of 
Ireland. 

I  do  not  hesitate  to  express  my  opinion  that,  as  the 
Normans  had  fastened  at  all  upciu  Ireland,  it  was  unfortu- 
nate that  Henrj^  was  called  away  at  this  juncture.  No 


TEE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


123 


one  can  for  an  instant  rank  side  by  side  the  naked  and 
heartless  rapacity  and  bloody  ferocity  of  the  Normans 
who  preceded  and  who  succeeded  him  in  Ireland,  with 
the  moderation,  the  statesmanship,  and  the  tolerance  ex- 
hibited by  Henry  while  remaining  here.  Much  of  this, 
doubtless,  was  policy  on  his  part ;  but  such  a  policy, 
though  it  might  result  in  bringing  the  kingdom  of  Ire- 
land under  the  same  crown  with  England  many  centuries 
sooner  than  it  was  so  brought  eventually  by  other  means, 
would  have  spared  our  country  centuries  of  slaughter, 
persecution,  and  suffering  unexampled  in  the  annals  of 
the  world.  There  are  abundant  grounds  for  presuming 
that  Henry's  views  and  designs  originally  were  wise  and 
comprehensive,  and  certainly  the  reverse  of  sanguinary. 
Se  meant  simply  to  win  the  sovereignty  of  another  king- 
dom ;  but  the  spirit  in  which  the  Normans  who  remained 
and  who  came  after  him  in  Ireland  acted  was  that  of 
mere  freebooters  —  rapacious  and  merciless  plunderers  — 
whose  sole  redeeming  trait  was  their  indomitable  pluck 
and  undaunted  bravery. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

HOW  HEKRY  MADE  A  TREATY  WITH  THE  IRISH  KING  — 
AND  DID  NOT  KEEP  IT. 

OON  the  Irish  began  to  learn  the  difference  be- 
tween King  Henry's  friendly  courtesies  and  mild 
adjudications,  and  the  rough  iron-shod  rule  of 
his  needy,  covetous,  and  lawless  lieutenants. 
On  all  sides  the  Normans  commenced  to  encroach  upon, 
outrage,  and  despoil  the  Irish,  until,  before  three  years 


124 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


had  elapsed,  Henry  found  all  he  had  won  in  Ireland  lost, 
and  the  English  power  there  apparently  at  the  last  ex- 
tremity. A  signal  defeat  which  Strongbow  encountered 
in  one  of  his  insolent  forays,  at  the  hands  of  O'Brien, 
prince  of  Thomond,  was  the  signal  for  a  general  assault 
upon  the  Normans.  They  were  routed  on  all  sides; 
Strongbow  himself  being  chased  into  and  cooped  up  with 
a  few  men  in  a  fortified  tower  in  Waterford.  But  this 
simultaneous  outbreak  lacked  the  unity  of  direction,  the 
reach  of  purpose,  and  the  perseverance  which  would 
cause  it  to  accomplish  permanent  rather  than  transitory 
results.  The  Irish  gave  no  thought  to  the  necessity  of 
following  up  their  victories ;  and  the  Norman  power,  on 
the  very  point  of  extinction,  was  allowed  slowly  to  recruit 
and  extend  itself  again. 

Henry  was  sorely  displeased  to  find  affairs  in  Ireland  in 
this  condition  ;  but,  of  course,  the  versions  which  reached 
him  laid  all  the  blame  on  the  Irish,  and  represented  the 
Norman  settlers  as  meek  and  peaceful  colonists  driven  to 
defend  themselves  against  treacherous  savages.  The 
English  monarch,  unable  to  repair  to  Ireland  himself,  be- 
thought him  of  the  Papal  letters,  and  resolved  to  try  their 
influence  on  the  Irish.  He  accordingly  commissioned 
William  Fitzadelm  De  Burgo  and  Nicholas,  the  prior  of 
Wallingford,  to  proceed  with  these  documents  to  Ireland, 
and  report  to  him  on  the  true  state  of  affairs  there. 
These  royal  commissioners  duly  reached  that  country, 
and  we  are  told  that,  having  assembled  the  Irish  prelates, 
the  Papal  letters  were  read.  But  no  chronicle,  English 
or  Irish,  tells  us  what  was  said  by  the  Irish  bishops  on 
hearing  them  read.  Very  likely  there  were  not  wanting 
prelates  to  point  out  that  the  Pope  had  been  utterly  mis- 
informed and  kept  in  the  dark  as  to  the  truth  about  Ire- 
land ;  and  that  so  far  the  bulls  were  of  no  valid  force  as 
such:  that  a$  to  t]ie  authority  necessary  to  King  Henr^  to 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


125 


effect  the  excellent  designs  he  professed,  it  had  already- 
been  pretty  generally  yielded  to  him  for  such  purpose  by 
the  Irish  princes  themselves  without  these  letters  at  all : 
that,  for  the  purposes  and  07i  the  conditions  specified  in  the 
Papal  letters,  he  was  likely  to  receive  every  cooperation 
from  the  Irish  princes ;  but  that  it  was  quite  another  thing 
if  he  expected  them  to  yield  themselves  up  to  be  plun- 
dered and  enslaved  —  that  they  would  resist  for  ever  and 
ever ;  and  if  there  was  to  be  peace,  morality,  or  religion  in 
the  land,  it  was  his  own  Norman  lords  and  governors  he 
should  recall  or  curb. 

Very  much  to  this  effect  was  the  report  of  the  royal 
commissioners  when  they  returned,  and  as  if  to  confirm 
the  conclusion  that  these  were  the  views  of  the  Irish  prel- 
ates and  princes  at  the  time,  we  find  the  Irish  monarch, 
Roderick,  sending  special  ambassadors  to  King  Henry  to 
negotiate  a  formal  treaty,  recording  and  regulating  the 
relations  which  were  to  exist  between  them.  '*In  Sep- 
tember, 1175,"  we  are  told,  "  the  Irish  monarch  sent  over 
to  England  as  his  plenipotentiaries,  Catholicus  O'Duffy, 
the  archbishop  of  Tuam ;  Concors,  abbot  of  St.  Brendan's 
of  Clonfert ;  and  a  third,  who  is  called  ]\Iaster  Laurence, 
his  chancellor,  but  who  was  no  other  than  the  holy  Arch- 
bishop of  Dublin,  as  we  know  that  that  illustrious  man  was 
one  of  those  who  signed  the  treaty  on  this  occasion.  A 
great  council  was  held  at  Windsor,  within  the  octave  of 
Michaelmas,  and  a  treaty  was  agreed  on,  the  articles  of 
which  were  to  the  effect,  that  Roderick  was  to  be  king 
under  Henry,  rendering  him  service  as  his  vassal ;  that  he 
was  to  hold  his  hereditary  territory  of  Connaught  in  the 
same  way  as  before  the  coming  of  Henry  into  Ireland  ; 
that  he  was  to  have  jurisdiction  and  dominion  over  the 
rest  of  the  island,  including  its  kings  and  princes,  whom 
he  should  oblige  to  pay  tribute,  through  his  hands,  to  the 
king  of  England;  that  these  kings  and  princes  were  also 


126 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


to  hold  possession  of  their  respective  territories  as  long  as 
they  remained  faithful  to  the  king  of  England  and  paid 
their  tribute  to  him  ;  that  if  they  departed  from  their 
fealty  to  the  king  of  England,  Roderick  was  to  judge  and 
depose  them,  either  by  his  own  power,  or,  if  that  was  not 
sufficient,  by  the  aid  of  the  Anglo-Norman  authorities; 
but  that  his  jurisdiction  should  not  extend  to  the  terri- 
tories occupied  by  the  English  settlers,  which  at  a  later 
period  was  called  the  English  Pale,  and  comprised  Meath 
and  Leinster,  Dublin  with  its  dependent  district.  Water- 
ford,  and  the  country  thence  to  Dungarvan. 

The  treaty  between  the  two  sovereigns,  Roderick  and 
Henry,  clearly  shows  that  the  mere  recognition  of  the 
English  king  as  suzerain  was  all  that  appeared  to  be 
claimed  on  the  one  side  or  yielded  on  the  other.  With  this 
single  exception  or  qualification,  the  native  Irish  power, 
authority,  rights,  and  liberties,  were  fully  and  formally 
guaranteed.  What  Henry  himself  thought  of  the  rela- 
tions in  which  he  stood  by  this  treaty  towards  Ireland, 
and  the  sense  in  which  he  read  its  stipulations,  is  very  in- 
telligibly evidenced  in  the  fact  that  he  never  styled,  signed, 
or  described  himself  as  either  king  or  lord  of  Ireland,  in 
the  documents  reciting  and  referring  to  his  relations  with 
and  towards  that  country. 

But  neither  Henry  nor  his  Norman  barons  kept  the 
treaty.  Like  that  made  with  Ireland  by  another  English 
king,  five  hundred  years  later  on,  at  Limerick,  it  was 

"  broken  ere  the  ink  wherewith 't  was  writ  was  dry." 

I  am  inclined  to  credit  Henry  with  having  at  one  time 
intended  to  keep  it.  I  think  there  are  indications  that  he 
was  in  a  certain  sense  coerced  by  his  Norman  lords  into 
the  abandonment,  or  at  least  the  alteration,  of  his  original 
policy,  plans,  and  intentions  as  to  Ireland,  which  were 
quite  too  peaceful  and  afforded  too  little  scope  for  plunder 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


127 


to  please  those  adventurers.  In  fact  the  barons  revolted 
against  the  idea  of  not  being  allowed  full  scope  for  rob- 
bing the  Irish;  and  one  of  them,  De  Courcy,  resolved  to 
fling  the  king's  restrictions  overboard,  and  set  off  on  a 
conquering  or  freebooting  expedition  on  his  own  account ! 
A  historian  tells  us  that  the  royal  commissioner  Fitzadelm 
was  quite  unpopular  with  the  colony.  His  tastes  were 
not  military  ;  he  did  not  afford  sufficient  scope  for  spoliation  ; 
and  he  was  openly  accused  of  being  too  friendly  to  the  Irish. 
De  Courcy,  one  of  his  aides  in  the  government,  became 
so  disgusted  with  his  inactivity,  that  he  set  out,  in  open 
defiance  of  the  viceroy's  prohibition,  on  an  expedition  to 
the  north.  Having  selected  a  small  army  of  twenty-two 
knights  and  three  hundred  soldiers,  all  picked  men,  to  ac- 
company him,  by  rapid  marches  he  arrived  the  fourth  day 
at  Downpatrick,  the  chief  city  of  Ulidia,  and  the  clangour 
of  his  bugles  ringing  through  the  streets  at  the  break  of 
day,  was  the  first  intimation  which  the  inhabitants  re- 
ceived of  this  wholly  unexpected  incursion.  In  the  alarm 
and  confusion  which  ensued,  the  people  became  easy  victims, 
and  the  English,  after  indulging  their  rage  and  rapacity, 
entrenched  themselves  in  a  corner  of  the  city.  Cardinal 
Vivian,  who  had  come  as  legate  from  Pope  Alexander  the 
Third  to  the  nations  of  Scotland  and  Ireland,  and  who 
had  only  recently  arrived  from  the  Isle  of  Man,  happened 
to  be  then  in  Down,  and  was  horrified  at  this  act  of  aggres- 
sion. He  attempted  to  negotiate  terms  of  peace,  and  pro- 
posed that  De  Courcy  should  withdraw  his  army  on  the 
condition  of  the  Ulidians  paying  tribute  to  the  English 
king ;  but  any  such  terms  being  sternly  rejected  by  De 
Courcy,  the  Cardinal  encouraged  and  exhorted  Mac  Dun- 
levy,  the  king  of  Ulidia  and  Dalariada,  to  defend  his  ter- 
ritories manfully  against  the  invaders.  Coming  as  this 
ad^dce  did  from  the  Pope's  legate,  we  may  judge  in  what 
light  the  grant  of  Ireland  to  king  Henry  the  Second  was 
regarded  by  the  Pope  himself." 


128 


THE  STORY  OF  IBELAND. 


It  became  clear  that  whatever  policy  or  principles  Henry 
might  originally  have  thought  of  acting  on  in  Ireland,  he 
should  abandon  them  and  come  into  the  scheme  of  the 
barons,  which  was,  that  he  should  give  them  free  and  full 
license  for  the  plunder  of  the  Irish,  and  they  in  return 
would  extend  his  realm.  So  we  find  the  whole  aim  and 
spirit  of  the  royal  policy  forthwith  altered  to  meet  the 
piratical  views  of  the  barons. 

One  of  Roderick's  sons,  Murrogh,  rebelled  against  and 
endeavoured  to  depose  his  father  (as  the  sons  of  Henry 
endeavoured  to  dethrone  him  a  few  years  subsequently), 
and  Milo  de  Cogan,  by  the  lord  deputy's  orders,  led  a 
Norman  force  into  Connaught  to  aid  the  parricidal  revolt! 
The  Connacians,  how^ever,  stood  by  their  aged  king,  shrank 
from  the  rebellious  son,  and  under  the  command  of 
Roderick  in  person  gave  battle  to  the  Normans  at  the 
Shannon.  De  Cogan  and  his  Norman  treaty-breakers  and 
plunder-seekers  were  utterly  and  disastrously  defeated ; 
and  Murrogh,  the  unnatural  son,  being  captured,  was 
tried  for  his  offence  by  the  assembled  clans,  and  suffered 
the  eric  decreed  by  law  for  his  crime. 

This  was  the  first  deliberate  rent  in  the  treaty  by  the 
English.  The  next  was  by  Henry  himself,  who,  in  viola- 
tion of  his  kingly  troth,  undertook  to  dub  his  son  John, 
yet  a  mere  child,  either  lord  or  king  of  Ireland,  and  by 
those  plausible  deceits  and  diplomatic  arts  in  which  he 
proved  himself  a  master,  he  obtained  the  approbation  of 
the  Pope  for  his  proceeding.  Quickly  following  upon 
these  violations  of  the  treaty  of  Windsor,  and  suddenly 
and  completely  changing  the  whole  nature  of  the  relations 
between  the  Irish  and  the  Normans  as  previously  laid 
down,  Henry  began  to  grant  and  assign  away  after  the 
most  wholesale  fashion,  the  lands  of  the  Irish,  apportioning 
amongst  his  hungry  followers  whole  territories  j^et  unseen 
by  an  English  eye !    Naturalists  tell  how  the  paw  of  a 


THE  STOnr  OF  IRELANU. 


129 


tiger  can  touch  with  the  softness  of  velvet  or  clutch  with 
the  force  of  a  vice,  according  as  the  deadly  fangs  are 
sheathed  or  put  forth.  The  Irish  princes  had  been  treated 
w^ith  the  velvet  smoothness  ;  they  were  now^  to  be  torn  by 
the  lacerating  fangs  of  that  tiger  grip  to  which  they  had 
yielded  themselves  up  so  easily. 


CHAPTER  XXI- 

DEATH-BED  SCENES. 

T  is  a  singular  fact  —  one  which  no  historian  can 
avoid  particularly  noticing  —  that  every  one  of 
the  principal  actors  on  the  English  side  in  this 
eventful  episode  of  the  first  Anglo-Norman  inva- 
sion, ended  life  violently,  or  under  most  painful  circum- 
stances. M'Murrogh  the  traitor  died,  as  we  have  already 
seen,  of  a  mysterious  disease,  by  which  his  body  became 
putrid  while  yet  he  lingered  between  life  and  death. 
Strongbow  died  under  somewhat  similar  circumstances ; 
an  ulcer  in  his  foot  spread  upwards,  and  so  eat  away  his 
body  that  it  almost  fell  to  pieces.  Strongbow's  son  was 
slain  by  the  father's  hand.  The  death-bed  of  King  Henry 
the  Second  was  a  scene  of  horror.  He  died  cursing  with 
the  most  fearful  maledictions  his  own  sons !  In  vain  the 
bishops  and  ecclesiastics  surrounding  his  couch,  horror- 
stricken,  sought  to  prevail  upon  him  to  revoke  these  awful 
imprecations  on  his  own  offspring  !  "  Accursed  be  the  day 
on  which  Itoas  born;  and  accursed  of  God  be  the  sons  that 
I  leave  after  me^''  were  his  last  words.^    Far  different  is 


1  "Mandit  loit  !•  jour  ou  jt  tuli  n^;  tt  manditt  de  Di«u  soitntlos  flls 
qui  j«  lai»8«." 


1^0  THE  STOnr  OF  JRELAXIK 

the  spectacle  presented  to  us  in  the  death-scene  of  the 
hapless  Irisli  monarch  Roderick !  Misfortunes  iu  every 
shape  had  indeed  c  rerwhelmed  him,  and  in  his  last  hours 
sorrv  ^  «.  were  mu  .:  ^lied  to  him.  ^'Xear  the  junction  of 
Long  Corri;:?  witr  Lough  Mask,  on  the  boundary  line 
betwt  m  Mayo  a  ralway,  stand  the  ruins  of  the  once 
popuL  ;s  monaster}'  and  village  of  Cong.  The  first  Chris- 
tian kings  of  Connaught  had  founded  the  monastery,  or 
enabled  St.  Fechin  to  do  so  by  their  generous  donations. 
The  father  of  Eoderick  had  enriched  its  shrine  by  the 
gift  of  a  particle  of  the  true  cross,  reverently  enshrined 
in  a  reliquary,  the  workmanship  of  which  still  excites  the 
admiration  of  antiquaries.  Here  Roderick  retired  in  the 
seventieth  year  of  his  age,  and  for  twelve  years  thereafter 
—  until  the  29th  day  of  November,  1198  —  here  he  wept 
and  prayed  and  withered  away.  Dead  to  the  world,  as 
the  world  to  him,  the  opening  of  a  new  grave  in  the  royal 
corner  at  Clonmacnoise  was  the  last  incident  connected 
with  his  name  which  reminded  Connaught  that  it  had 
lost  its  once  prosperous  prince,  and  Ireland,  that  she  had 
seen  her  last  Ard-Ri,  according  to  the  ancient  Milesian 
constitution.  Powerful  princes  of  his  own  and  other 
houses  the  land  was  destined  to  know  for  many  genera- 
tions, before  its  sovereignty  was  merged  in  that  of  Eng- 
land, but  none  fully  entitled  to  claim  the  high  sounding 
but  often  fallacious  title  of  Monarch  of  all  Ireland." 

One  other  death-bed  scene,  described  to  us  by  the  same 
historian,  one  more  picture  from  the  Irish  side,  and  we 
shall  take  our  leave  of  this  eventful  chapter  of  Irish  his- 
tory, and  the  actors  who  moved  in  it.  The  last  hours  of 
Roderick's  ambassador,  the  illustrious  archbishop  of  Dub- 
lin, are  thus  described  :  From  Rome  he  returned  with 
legatine  powers  which  he  used  with  great  energy  during 
the  year  1180.  In  the  autumn  of  that  year,  he  was 
entrusted  with  the  delivery  to  Henry  the  Second  of  the 


THE  STORY  OF  inELANl), 


IBl 


Bon  of  Roderick  O'Connor,  as  a  pledge  for  the  fulfilment 
of  the  treaty  of  Windsor,  and  with  other  diplomatic  func- 
tions. On  reaching  England,  he  found  the  king  had  gone 
to  France,  and  following  him  thither,  he  was  seized  with 
illness  as  he  approached  the  monastery  of  Eu,  and  with  a 
prophetic  foretaste  of  death,  he  exclaimed  as  he  came  in 
sight  of  the  towers  of  the  convent,  '  Here  shall  I  make 
my  resting  place.'  The  Abbot  Osbert  and  the  monks  of 
the  order  of  St.  Victor  received  him  tenderly  and  watched 
his  couch  for  the  few  days  he  yet  lingered.  Anxious  to 
fulfil  his  mission,  he  dispatched  David,  tutor  of  the  son 
of  Roderick,  with  messages  to  Henry,  and  awaited  his 
return  with  anxiety.  David  brought  him  a  satisfactory 
response  from  the  English  king,  and  the  last  anxiety  only 
remained.  In  death,  as  in  life,  his  thoughts  were  with 
his  country.  '  Ah,  foolish  and  insensible  people,'  he  ex- 
claimed in  his  latest  hours,  '  what  will  become  of  you  ? 
Who  will  relieve  your  miseries?  Who  will  heal  you?' 
When  recommended  to  make  his  last  will,  he  answered 
with  apostolic  simplicity  :  '  God  knows  out  of  all  my  reve- 
nues I  have  not  a  single  coin  to  bequeath.'  And  thus  on 
the  11th  of  November,  1180,  in  the  forty-eighth  year  of 
his  age,  under  the  shelter  of  a  Norman  roof,  surrounded 
by  Norman  mourners,  the  Gaelic  statesman-saint  departed 
out  of  this  life,  bequeathing  one  more  canonized  memory 
to  Ireland  and  to  Rome." 


132 


THE  ^TOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

HOW  THE  ANGLO-NORMAN  COLONY  FARED. 

HAVE,  in  the  foregoing  pages,  endeavoured  to 
narrate  fully  and  minutely  all  the  circumstances 
leading  to,  and  attendant  upon,  the  Anglo-Norman 
landing  and  settlement  in  this  country,  A.D. 
1169-1172.  It  transcends  in  importance  all  other  events 
in  our  history,  having  regard  to  ulterior  and  enduring 
consequences;  and  a  clear  and  correct  understanding  of 
that  event  will  furnish  a  key  to  the  confused  -history  of 
the  troubled  period  which  immediately  succeeded  it. 

It  is  not  my  design  to  follow  the  formal  histories  of 
Ireland  in  relating  at  full  length,  and  in  consecutive 
detail,  the  events  of  the  four  centuries  that  succeeded  the 
date  of  King  Henry's  landing.  It  was  a  period  of  such 
wild,  confused,  and  chaotic  struggle,  that  youthful  readers 
would  be  hopelessly  bewildered  in  the  effort  to  keep  its 
incidents  minutely  and  consecutively  remembered.  More- 
over, the  history  of  those  four  centuries  fully  written  out, 
would  make  a  goodly  volume  in  itself ;  a  volume  abound- 
ing with  stirring  incidents  and  affecting  tragedies,  and 
with  episodes  of  valour  and  heroism,  adventurous  daring, 
and  chivalrous,  patriotic  devotion,  not  to  be  surpassed  in 
the  pages  of  romance.  But  the  scope  of  my  story  forbids 
my  dwelling  at  any  great  length  upon  the  events  of  this 
period.  Such  of  my  readers  as  may  desire  to  trace  them 
in  detail  will  find  them  succinctly  related  in  the  formal 
histories  of  Ireland.  What  I  propose  to  do  here,  is  to 
make  my  youthful  readers  acquainted  with  the  general 
character,  course,  and  progress  of  the  struggle  ;  the  phases, 
changes,  or  mutations  through  which  it  passed ;  the  as- 


THE  STOBY  OF  IB  ELAND. 


133 


pects  it  presented,  and  the  issues  it  contested,  as  each 
century  rolled  on,  dwelling  only  upon  events  of  compara- 
tive importance,  and  incidents  illustrating  the  actions  and 
the  actors  of  the  period. 

Let  us  suppose  a  hundred  years  to  have  passed  away 
since  King  Henry's  visit  to  Ireland' — that  event  which 
Englishmen  who  write  Irish  history  affect  to  regard  as  an 
^•easy  conquest''  of  our  country.  Let  us  see  what  the 
Normans  have  achieved  by  the  end  of  one  hundred  years 
in  Ireland.  They  required  but  one  year  to  conquer  Eng- 
land; and,  accordingly,  judging  by  all  ordinary  calcula- 
tions and  probabilities,  we  ought  surely,  in  one  hundred 
times  that  duration,  to  find  Ireland  as  thoroughly  subdued 
and  as  completely  pacified  as  England  had  been  in  the 
twelvemonth  that  sufficed  for  its  utter  subjugation. 

The  nature  of  the  struggle  waged  by  the  Anglo-Normans 
against  Ireland  during  this  period  was  rather  peculiar. 
At  no  time  was  it  an  open  and  avowed  effort  to  conquer 
Ireland  as  England  had  been  conquered,  though,  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  the  military  force  engaged  against  the  Irish 
throughout  the  period  exceeded  that  which  had  sufficed 
the  Normans  to  conquer  England.  King  Henry,  as  we 
have  already  seen,  presented  himself  and  his  designs  in 
no  such  hostile  guise  to  the  Irish.  He  seems  to  have  con- 
cluded that,  broken  and  faction-split,  disorganized  and 
demoralized,  as  the  Irish  princes  were,  they  would  prob- 
ably be  rallied  into  union  by  the  appearance  of  a  nakedly 
hostile  invasion  ;  and  he  knew  well  that  it  would  be  easier 
to  conquer  a  dozen  Englands  than  to  overcome  this  sol- 
dier race  if  only  united  against  a  common  foe.  So  the 
crown  of  England  did  not,  until  long  after  this  time, 
openly  profess  to  pursue  a  conquest  of  Ireland,  any  more 
than  it  professed  to  pursue  a  conquest  in  India  in  the 
time  of  Clive.  An  Anglo-Norman  colon}'  was  planted  on 
the  south-eastern  corner  of  the  island.    This  colony,  whicli 


134 


THE  STOEY  OF  IRELAND. 


was  well  sustained  from  England,  was  to  push  its  own 
fortunes,  as  it  were,  in  Ireland,  and  to  extend  itself  as 
rapidly  as  it  could.  To  it,  as  ample  excitement,  sustain- 
nient,  and  recompense,  was  given,  prospectively,  the  land 
to  be  taken  from  the  Irish.  The  planting  of  such  a  colony 
—  composed,  as  it  was,  of  able,  skilful,  and  desperate 
military  adventurers  —  and  the  endowing  of  it,  so  to 
speak,  with  such  rich  prospect  of  plunder,  was  the  estab- 
lishment of  a  perpetual  and  self-acting  mechanism  for  the 
gradual  reduction  of  Ireland. 

Against  this  colony  the  Irish  warred  in  their  own  des- 
ultory way,  very  much  as  they  warred  against  each  other, 
neither  better  nor  worse ;  and  in  the  fierce  warring  of  the 
Irish  princes  with  each  other,  the  Anglo-Norman  colonists 
sided  now  with  one,  now  with  another;  nay,  very  fre- 
quently in  such  conflicts  Anglo-Normans  fought  on  each 
side !  The  colony,  however,  had  precisely  that  which  the 
Irish  needed  —  a  supreme  authority  ever  guiding  it  in  the 
one  purpose ;  and  it  always  felt  strong  in  the  conscious- 
ness that,  at  the  worst,  England  was  at  its  back,  and  that 
in  its  front  lay,  not  the  Irish  nation,  but  the  broken  frag- 
ments of  that  once  great  and  glorious  power. 

The  Irish  princes,  meantime,  each  one  for  himself, 
fought  away  as  usual,  either  against  the  Norman  colonists 
or  against  some  neighbouring  Irish  chief.  Indeed,  they 
may  be  described  as  fighting  each  other  with  one  hand, 
and  fighting  England  with  the  other  I  Quite  as  curious 
is  the  fact,  that  in  all  their  struggles  with  the  latter,  they 
seem  to  have  been  ready  enough  to  admit  the  honorary 
lordship  or  suzerainty  of  the  English  king,  but  resolved 
to  resist  to  the  death  the  Norman  encroachments  be3'ond 
the  cities  and  lands  to  the  possession  of  which  they  had 
attained  by  reason  of  their  treaties  with,  or  successes 
under,  Dermot  M'Murrogh.  The  fight  was  all  for  the 
soil.  Then,  as  in  our  own  times,  the  battW  cry  was  "  Lmd 
pr  Ufe : " 


TEE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


135 


But  the  English  power  had  two  modes  of  action ;  and 
when  one  failed  the  other  was  tried.  As  long  as  the  rapa- 
cious freebooting  of  the  barons  was  working  profitably, 
not  only  for  themselves  but  for  the  king,  it  was  all  ver}' 
well.  But  when  that  policy  resulted  in  arousing  the  Irish 
to  successful  resistance,  and  the  freebooters  were  being 
routed  everywhere,  or  when  they  had  learned  to  think  too 
much  of  their  own  profit  and  too  little  of  the  king's,  then 
his  English  majesty  could  take  to  the  role  of  magnani- 
mous friend,  protector,  or  suzerain  of  the  Irish  princes, 
and  angry  punisher  of  the  rapacious  Norman  barons. 

We  have  already  seen  that  when  Henry  the  Second 
visited  Ireland,  it  was  (pretendedly  at  least)  in  the  char- 
acter of  a  just-minded  king,  who  came  to  chastise  his  own 
subjects,  the  Norman  settlers.  When  next  an  English 
king  visited  these  shores,  it  was  professedly  with  a  like 
design.  In  1210  King  John  arrived,  and  during  his  entire 
stay  in  this  country  he  was  occupied,  not  in  wars  or  con- 
flicts with  the  Irish;  quite  the  contrary  —  in  chastising 
the  most  powerful  and  presumptuous  of  the  great  Norman 
lords!  What  wonder  that  the  Irish  princes  were  con- 
firmed in  the  old  idea,  impressed  upon  them  by  King 
Henry's  words  and  actions,  that  though  in  the  Norman 
barons  they  had  to  deal  with  savage  and  merciless  spoli- 
ators, in  the  English  king  they  had  a  friendly  suzerain  ? 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  Irish  princes  who  had  fought  most 
stoutly  and  victoriously  against  the  Normans  up  to  the 
date  of  John's  arrival,  at  once  joined  their  armies  to  his, 
and  at  the  head  of  this  combined  force  the  English  king 
proceeded  to  overthrow  the  most  piratical  and  powerful 
of  the  barons  !  Says  M'Gee  :  "  The  visit  of  King  John, 
which  lasted  from  the  20th  of  June  to  the  25th  of  August, 
was  mainly  directed  to  the  reduction  of  those  intract- 
able Anglo-Irish  princes  whom  Fitz-Henry  and  Gray  had 
proved  themselves  unable  to  cope  with.     Of  these  the 


136 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAXD. 


De  Lacys  of  Meath  were  the  most  obnoxious.  They  not 
only  assumed  an  independent  state,  but  had  sheltered  De 
Braos,  lord  of  Brecknock,  one  of  the  recusant  barons  of 
Wales,  and  refused  to  surrender  him  on  the  royal  sum- 
mons. To  assert  his  authority  and  to  strike  terror  into 
the  nobles  of  other  possessions,  John  crossed  the  channel 
with  a  prodigious  fleet  —  in  the  Irish  annals  said  to  con- 
sist of  seven  hundred  sail.  He  landed  at  Crook,  reached 
Dublin,  and  prepared  at  once  to  subdue  the  Lacys.  With 
his  own  army,  and  the  cooperation  of  Cathal  O'Conor, 
he  drove  out  Walter  de  Lacy,  Lord  of  Meath,  who  fled  to 
his  brother,  Hugh  de  Lacy,  since  De  Courcy's  disgrace, 
Earl  of  Ulster.  From  Meath  into  Louth  John  pursued 
the  brothers,  crossing  the  lough  at  Carlingford  with  his 
ships,  which  must  have  coasted  in  his  company.  From 
Carlingford  they  retreated,  and  he  pursued  to  Carrick- 
fergus,  and  that  fortress,  being  unable  to  resist  a  royal 
fleet  and  navy,  they  fled  into  Man  or  Scotland,  and  thence 
escaped  in  disguise  into  France.  With  their  guest  De 
Braos,  they  wrought  as  gardeners  in  the  grounds  of  the 
jfVbbey  of  Saint  Taurin  Evreux,  until  the  abbot,  having 
discovered  by  their  manners  the  key  to  their  real  rank, 
negotiated  successfully  with  John  for  their  restoration  to 
their  estates.  Walter  agreed  to  pay  a  fine  of  2,500  marks 
for  his  lordship  in  Meath,  and  Hugh  4,000  for  his  posses- 
sions in  Ulster.  Of  De  Braos  we  have  no  particulars ;  his 
high-spirited  wife  and  children  were  thought  to  have  been 
starved  to  death  by  order  of  the  unforgiving  tyrant  in 
one  of  his  castles." 

In  the  next  succeeding  reign  (that  of  Henry  the  Third), 
we  find  a  like  impression  existing  and  encouraged  amongst 
the  Irish  princes;  the  king  of  Connaught  proceeding  to 
England  and  complaining  to  the  king  of  the  unjust,  op- 
pressive, and  rapacious  conduct  of  the  barons.  And  we 
find  King  Henry  ordering  him  substantial  redress,  writin^^ 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


137 


to  his  lord  justice  in  Ireland,  Maurice  Fitzgerald,  to  pluck 
up  by  the  root  the  powerful  De  Burgo,  who  lorded.it 
over  all  the  west.  There  is  still  in  existence  a  letter 
written  by  the  Connacian  king  to  Henry  the  Third,  thank- 
ing him  for  the  many  favours  he  had  conferred  upon  him, 
but  particularly  for  this  one. 


CHAPTER  XXIIL 

"THE  BIEK  THAT  CONQUERED."     THE  STORY  OF 
GODFREY  OF  TYRCONNELL. 

HAVE  remarked  that  the  Irish  chiefs  may  be 
said  to  have  fought  each  other  with  one  hand, 
while  they  fought  the  English  with  the  other. 
Illustrating  this  state  of  things,  I  may  refer  to  the 
story  of  Godfrey,  prince  of  Tyrconnell  —  as  glorious  a 
character  as  ever  adorned  the  page  of  history.  For  years 
the  Normans  had  striven  in  vain  to  gain  a  foothold  in 
Tyrconnell.  Elsewhere  —  in  Connaught,  in  Munster, 
throughout  all  Leinster,  and  in  Southern  Ulster  —  they 
could  betimes  assert  their  sway,  either  by  dint  of  arms  or 
insidious  diplomatic  strategy.  But  never  could  they  over- 
reach the  wary  and  martial  Cinel-Connal,  from  whom  more 
than  once  the  Norman  armies  had  suffered  overthrow.  At 
length  the  lord  justice,  Maurice  Fitzgerald,  felt  that  this 
hitherto  invulnerable  fortress  of  native  Irish  powder  in  the 
north-west  had  become  a  formidable  standing  peril  to  the 
entire  English  colony ;  and  it  w^as  accordingly  resolved 
that  the  whole  strength  of  the  Anglo-Norman  force  in 
Ireland  should  be  put-fortli  in  one  grand  expedition 
against  it;  and  this  expedition  tlie  lord  justice  decided 


138 


THE  STOBT  OF  IRELAND. 


that  he  himself  would  lead  and  command  in  person  !  At 
this  time  Tyrconnell  was  ruled  by  a  prince  who  was  the 
soul  of  chivalric  bravery,  wise  in  the  council,  and  daring 
in  the  field  —  Godfrey  O'Donnell.  The  lord  justice,  while 
assembling  his  forces,  employed  the  time,  moreover,  in  skil- 
fully diplomatising,  playing  the  insidious  game  which,  hi 
every  century,  most  largely  helped  the  Anglo-Norman 
interest  in  Ireland  —  setting  up  rivalries  and  inciting 
liostilities  amongst  the  Irish  princes  !  Having,  as  he 
thought,  not  only  cut  off  Godfrey  from  all  chance  of 
alliance  or  support  from  his  fellow-princes  of  the  north 
and  west,  but  environed  him  with  their  active  hostility, 
Fitzgerald  marched  on  Tyrconnell.  His  army  moved  with 
all  the  pomp  and  panoply  of  Norman  pride.  Lords,  earls, 
knights,  and  squires,  from  every  Norman  castle  or  settle- 
ment in  the  land,  had  rallied  at  the  summons  of  the  king's 
representative.  Godfrey,  isolated  though  he  found  him- 
self, was  nothing  daunted  by  the  tremendous  odds  which 
he  knew  were  against  him.  He  was  conscious  of  his  own 
military  superiority  to  any  of  the  Norman  lords  yet  sent 
against  him  —  he  was  in  fact  one  of  the  most  skilful 
captains  of  the  age  —  and  he  relied  implicitly  on  the  un- 
conquerable bravery  of  his  clansmen.  Both  armies  met 
at  Credan-Kille  in  the  north  of  Sligo.  A  battle  which 
tlic  Normans  describe  as  fiercely  and  vehemently  contested, 
ensued  and  raged  for  hours  without  palpable  advantage  to 
cither  side.  In  vain  the  mail-clad  battalions  of  England 
rushed  upon  the  saffron  kilted  Irisli  clansmen ;  each  time 
t  hey  reeled  from  the  shock  and  fled  in  bloody  rout !  In 
vain  the  cavalry  squadrons  —  long  the  boasted  pride  of 
the  Normans  —  headed  by  earls  and  knights  whose  names 
were  rallying  cries  in  Norman  England,  swept  upon  the 
Irish  lines  I    Riderless  horses  alone  returned, 

*'  Their  nostrils  all  red  with  the  sign  of  despair." 


THE  STORY  OF  IBELAND. 


139 


The  lord  justice  in  wild  dismay  saw  the  proudest  army 
ever  rallied  by  Norman  power  on  Irish  soil,  being  routed 
and  hewn  piecemeal  before  his  eyes  I  Godfrey,  on  the 
other  hand,  the  very  impersonation  of  valour,  was  every- 
where cheering  his  men,  directing  the  battle  and  dealing 
destruction  to  the  Normans.  The  gleam  of  his  battle-axe 
or  the  flash  of  his  sword,  was  the  sure  precursor  of  death 
to  the  haughtiest  earl  or  knight  that  dared  to  confront 
him.  The  lord  justice  —  than  whom  no  abler  general  or 
braver  soldier  served  the  king  —  saw  that  the  day  was 
lost  if  he  could  not  save  it  by  some  desperate  effort,  and 
at  the  worst  he  had  no  wish  to  survive  the  overthrow  of 
the  splendid  army  he  had  led  into  the  field.  The  flower 
of  the  Norman  nobles  had  fallen  under  the  sword  of  God- 
frey, and  him  the  Lord  Maurice  now  sought  out,  dashing 
into  the  thickest  of  the  fight.  The  two  leaders  met  in 
single  combat.  Fitzgerald  dealt  the  Tyrconnell  chief  a 
deadly  wound ;  but  Godfrey,  still  keeping  his  seat,  with 
one  blow  of  his  battle-axe,  clove  the  lord  justice  to  the 
earth,  and  the  proud  baron  was  carried  senseless  off  the 
field  by  his  followers.  The  English  fled  in  hopeless  con- 
fusion ;  and  of  them  the  chroniclers  tell  us  there  was 
made  a  slaughter  that  night's  darkness  alone  arrested. 
The  Lord  Maurice  was  done  with  pomp  and  power  after 
the  ruin  of  that  day.  He  survived  his  dreadful  wound 
for  some  time ;  he  retired  into  a  Franciscan  mouastery 
which  he  himself  had  built  and  endowed  at  Youghal,  and 
there  taking  the  habit  of  a  monk,  he  departed  this  life 
tranquilly  in  the  bosom  of  religion.  Godfrey,  meanwhile, 
mortally  wounded,  was  unable  to  follow  up  quickly  the 
great  victory  of  Credan-Kille ;  but  stricken  as  he  was. 
and  with  life  ebbing  fast,  he  did  not  disband  his  army  till 
he  had  demolished  the  only  castle  the  English  had  dared 
to  raise  on  the  soil  of  Tyrconnell.  This  being  done,  and 
the  J^st  soldiev  of  England  chased  beyond  the  frontier 


140 


THE  STORY  OF  IB  ELAND. 


line,  he  gave  the  order  for  dispersion,  and  himself  was 
borne  homewards  to  die. 

This,  however,  sad  to  tell,  was  the  moment  seized  upon 
by  O'Neill,  prince  of  Tyrone,  to  wrest  from  the  Cinel- 
Connal  submission  to  his  power  I  Hearing  that  the  lion- 
hearted  Godfrey  lay  dying,  and  while  yet  the  Tyrconnel- 
lian  clans,  disbanded  and  on  their  homeward  roads,  were 
suffering  from  their  recent  engagement  with  the  Normans, 
O'Neill  sent  envoys  to  the  dying  prince  demanding  hos- 
tages in  token  of  submission.  The  envoys,  say  all  the 
historians,  no  sooner  delivered  this  message  than  they  fled 
for  their  lives  I  Dying  though  Godfrey  was,  and  broken 
and  wounded  as  were  his  clansmen  by  their  recent  glorious 
struggle,  the  messengers  of  Tyrowen  felt  but  too  forcibly 
the  peril  of  delivering  this  insolent  demand  !  And 
characteristically  was  it  answered  by  Godfrey !  His  only 
reply  was  to  order  an  instantaneous  muster  of  all  the 
fighting  men  of  Tyrconnell.  The  army  of  Tyrowen 
meanwhile  pressed  forward  rapidly  to  strike  the  Cinel- 
Connal,  if  possible,  before  their  available  strength,  such 
as  it  was,  could  be  rallied.  Nevertheless,  they  found  the 
quickly  re-assembled  victors  of  Credan-Kille  awaiting  them. 
But  alas,  sorrowful  story  I  On  the  morning  of  the  battle, 
death  had  but  too  plainly  set  his  seal  upon  the  brow  of 
the  heroic  Godfrey  !  As  the  troops  were  being  drawn  up 
in  line,  ready  to  march  into  the  field,  the  physicians  an- 
nounced that  his  last  moments  were  at  hand ;  he  had  but 
a  few  hours  to  live !  Godfrey  himself  received  the  infor- 
mation with  sublime  composure.  Having  first  received 
the  last  sacraments  of  the  Ghurcli,  and  given  minute  in- 
structions as  to  the  order  of  battle,  he  directed  that  he 
should  be  laid  upon  the  bier  which  was  to  have  borne  him  to 
the  grave  ;  and  that  thus  he  shoidd  be  carried  at  the  head  of 
his  army  071  their  march  /  His  orders  were  abeyed,  and 
then  was  witnessed  a  scene  fur  whicli  historv  has  not  a 


THE  STOBY  OF  IBKLAM). 


141 


parallel !  The  dying  king,  laid  on  his  bier,  was  borne  at 
the  head  of  his  troops  into  tlie  field !  After  the  bier  came 
the  standard  of  Godfrey  —  on  which  was  emblazoned  a 
cross  with  the  words,  In  hoc  signo  vinces  ^  —  and  next  came 
the  charger  of  the  dying  king,  caparisoned  as  if  for 
battle  I  But  Godfrey's  last  fight  was  fought !  Never 
more  was  that  charger  to  bear  him  where  the  sword-blows 
fell  thickest.    Never  more  would  his  battle-axe  gleam  in 

1  On  the  banner  and  shield  of  TyrconneU  were  emblazoned  a  Cross  sur- 
rounded by  the  words  In  hoc  signo  vinccs.  One  readily  inclines  to  the 
conjecture  that  this  was  borrowed  from  the  Roman  emperor  Constantine. 
Til e  words  may  have  been;  but  amongst  the  treasured  traditions  of  the 
Cinel-Connal  was  one  which  there  is  reason  for  regarding  as  historicaUy 
reliable,  assigning  to  an  interesting  circumstance  the  adoption  by  them  of 
the  Cross  as  the  armorial  bearings  of  the  sept.  One  of  the  earliest  of  St. 
Patrick's  converts  was  Conall  Crievan,  brother  of  Ard-Ri  Laori,  and  an- 
cestor of  the  Cinel-Connal.  Conall  was  a  prince  famed  for  his  courage  and 
bravery,  and  much  attached  to  military  pursuits  ;  but  on  his  conversion  he 
desired  to  become  a  priest;  preferring  his  request  to  this  effect  to  St.  Patrick, 
when  either  baptizing  or  confirming  him.  The  saint,  however,  commanded 
him  to  remain  a  soldier;  but  to  fight  henceforth  as  became  a  Christian 
warrior;  "and  under  this  sign  serve  and  conquer,"  said  the  saint,  raising 
the  iron  pointed  end  of  the  "Staff  of  Jesus,"  and  marking  on  the  shield  of 
Conall  a  cross.  The  shield  thus  marked  by  St.  Patrick's  crozier  was  ever 
after  called  Sciath  Bachlach,"  or  the  ''Shield  of  the  Crozier."  Mr.  Au- 
brey de  Vere  very  truly  calls  this  the  "  inauguration-  of  Irish  (Christian) 
chivalry,"  and  has  made  the  incident  the  subject  of  the  following  poem:  — 

ST.  PATRICK  AND  THE  KNIGHT. 

"  Thou  Bhalt  not  be  a  priest,"  he  said; 

*•  Christ  hath  for  thee  a  lowlier  task  : 
Be  thou  his  soldier  !   Wear  with  dread 

His  cross  upon  thy  shield  and  casque ! 
Put  on  God's  armour,  faithful  knight ! 

Mercy  with  justice,  love  with  law ; 
Nor  e'er,  except  for  truth  and  right, 

This  sword,  cross-hilted,  dare  to  draw." 

He  spake,  and  with  his  crozier  pointed 

Graved  on  the  broad  shield's  brazen  boii 
(That  hour  baptized,  confirmed,  anointed, 

Stood  Erin's  chivalry)  the  Cross ; 
And  there  was  heard  a  whisper  low  — 

(Saint  Michael,  was  that  whisper  thine  ?)  — 
Thou  iword,  keep  pure  thy  virgin  vow, 

Apd  trenchftut  thou  •halt  be  a»  mine, 


'THE  STotiY  or  J  UPLAND. 


the  front  of  the  combat.  But  as  if  his  presence,  living, 
dead,  or  dying,  was  still  a  potential  assurance  of  triumph 
to  his  people,  the  Cinel-Connal  bore  down  all  opposition. 
Long  and  fiercely,  but  vainly,  the  army  of  Tyrowen  con- 
tested the  field.  Around  the  bier  of  Godfrey  his  faithful 
clansmen  made  an  adamantine  rampart  which  no  foe  could 
penetrate.  Wherever  it  was  borne,  the  Tyrconnell  phalanx, 
of  which  it  was  the  heart  and  centre,  swept  all  before 
them.  At  length  when  the  foe  was  flying  on  all  sides, 
they  laid  the  bier  upon  the  ground  to  tell  the  king  that  the 
day  was  won.  But  the  face  of  Godfrey  was  marble  pale, 
and  cold  and  motionless  I  All  was  over  I  His  heroic  spirit 
had  departed  amidst  his  people's  shouts  of  victory  I 

Several  poems  have  been  written  on  this  tragic  yet 
glorious  episode.  That  from  which  I  take  the  following 
passages,  is  generally  accounted  the  best :  ^  — 

"  All  worn  and  wan,  and  sore  with  wounds  from  C redan's  bloody  fray, 
In  Donegal  for  weary  months  the  proud  O'Donnell  lay ; 
Around  his  couch  in  bitter  grief  his  trusty  clansmen  wait, 
And  silent  watch,  with  aching  hearts,  his  faint  and  feeble  state." 

The  chief  asks  one  evening  to  be  brought  into  the  open 
air,  that  he  may  gaze  once  more  on  the  landscape's  familiar 
scenes :  — 

*  And  see  the  stag  upon  the  hills,  the  white  clouds  drifting  by ; 
And  feel  upon  my  wasted  cheek  God's  sunshine  ere  I  die.' " 

Suddenly  he  starts  on  his  pallet,  and  exclaims :  — 

"  *  A  war-steed's  tramp  is  on  the  heath,  and  onward  cometh  fast, 
And  by  the  rood  !  a  trumpet  sounds  !  hark  I  't  is  the  Red  Hand's 
blast  1 ' 

And  soon  a  kern  all  breathless  ran,  and  told  a  stranger  train 
Across  the  heath  was  spurring  fast,  and  then  in  sight  it  came. 


^  Thf  nam«  of  tht  author  is  unknown, 


rSE  stonr  of  iRELA^-t). 


'  Go,  bring  ine,  quick,  my  father's  sword,'  the  noble  chieftain  said ; 
*My  mantle  o'er  my  shoulders  fling,  place  helmet  on  my  head; 
And  raise  me  to  my  feet,  for  ne'er  shall  clansman  of  my  foe 
Go  boasting  tell  in  far  Tyrone  he  saw  O'Donnell  low.' " 

The  envoys  of  O'Xeill  arrive  in  Godfrey's  presence, 
and  deliver  their  message,  demanding  tribute  :  — 

'  A  hundred  hawks  from  out  your  woods,  all  trained  their  prey  to  get ; 
A  hundred  steeds  from  off  your  hills,  uncrossed  by  rider  yet; 
A  hundred  kine  from  off  your  hills,  the  best  your  land  doth  know ; 
A  hundred  hounds  from  out  your  halls,  to  hunt  the  stag  and  roe.'  ^* 

Godfrey,  however,  is  resolved  to  let  his  foes,  be  they 
Norman  or  native,  know  that,  though  dying,  he  is  not 
dead  yet.  He  orders  a  levy  of  the  fighting  men  of 
Tyrconnell :  — 

"  '  Go  call  around  Tyrconnell's  chief  my  warriors  tried  and  true ; 
Send  forth  a  friend  to  Donal  More,  a  scout  to  Lisnahue; 
Light  baal-fires  quick  on  Esker's  towers,  that  all  the  land  may  know 
O'Donnell  needeth  help  and  haste  to  meet  his  haughty  foe. 

'  Oh,  could  I  but  my  people  head,  or  wield  once  more  a  spear, 
Saint  Angus !  but  we'd  hunt  their  hosts  like  herds  of  fallow  deer. 
But  vain  the  wish,  since  I  am  now  a  faint  and  failing  man ; 
Yet,  ye  shall  bear  me  to  the  field,  in  the  centre  of  my  clan. 

" '  Right  in  the  midst,  and  lest,  perchance,  upon  the  march  I  die, 
In  my  coffin  ye  shall  place  me,  uncovered  let  me  lie ; 
And  swear  ye  now,  my  body  cold  shall  never  rest  in  clay, 
Until  you  drive  from  Donegal  O'Xiall's  host  away.' 

**  Then  sad  and  stern,  with  hand  on  skian,  that  solemn  oath  they 
swore. 

And  in  a  coffin  placed  their  chief,  and  on  a  litter  bore. 

Tho'  ebbing  fast  his  life-throbs  came,  yet  dauntless  in  his  mood, 

He  marshalled  well  Tyrconnell's  chiefs,  like  leader  wise  and  good. 


"  Lough  Swilly's  sides  are  thick  with  spears,  O'Niall's  host  is  there, 
And  proud  and  gay  their  battle  sheen,  their  banners  float  the  air} 


1 

ill  THE  STOllY  OF  ICELAND. 

And  haughtily  a  challenge  bold  their  trumpets  bloweth  free, 
When  winding-  down  the  heath-clad  hills,  O'Donnell's  band  they  see! 

No  answer  back  those  warriors  gave,  but  sternly  on  they  stept. 
And  in  their  centre,  curtained  black,  a  litter  close  is  kept ; 
And  all  their  host  it  guideth  fair,  as  did  in  Galilee 
Proud  Judah's  tribes  the  Ark  of  God,  when  crossing  Egypt's  sea. 

"  Then  rose  the  roar  of  battle  loud,  as  clan  met  clan  in  fight; 
The  axe  and  skian  grew  red  with  blood,  a  sad  and  wof ul  sight ; 
Yet  in  the  midst  o'er  all,  unmoved,  that  litter  black  is  seen, 
Like  some  dark  rock  that  "lifts  its  head  o'er  ocean's  war  serene. 

Yet  once,  when  blenching  back  fierce  Bryan's  charge  before, 
Tyrconnell  wavered  in  it^  ranks,  and  all  was  nearly  o'er, 
Aside  those  curtains  wide  were  flung,  and  plainly  to  the  view 
Each  host  beheld  O'Donnell  there,  all  pale  and  wan  in  hue. 

And  to  his  tribes  he  stretch'd  his  hands  —  then  pointed  to  the  foe, 
When  with  a  shout  they  rally  round,  and  on  Clan  Hugh  they  go ; 
And  back  they  beat  their  horsemen  fierce,  and  in  a  column  deep, 
With  O'Donnell  in  their  foremost  rank,  in  one  fierce  charge  they 
sw^eep. 


"Lough  Swilly's  banks  are  thick  with  spears!  —  O'Niall's  host  is 
there, 

But  rent  and  tost  like  tempest  clouds  —  Clan  Donnell  in  the  rere! 
Lough  Swilly's  waves  are  red  with  blood,  as  madly  in  its  tide 
O'Niall's  horsemen  wildly  plunge,  to  reach  the  other  side. 

And  broken  is  Tyrowen's  pride,  and  vanquished  Clannaboy, 
And  there  is  wailing  thro'  the  land,  from  Bann  to  Aughnacloy 
The  Red  Hand's  crest  is  bent  in  grief,  upon  its  shield  a  stain. 
For  its  stoutest  clans  are  broken,  its  stoutest  chiefs  are  slain. 

"  And  proud  and  high  Tyrconnell  shouts ;.  but  blending  on  the  gale, 
Upon  the  ear  ascendeth  a  sad  and  sullen  wail ; 
For  on  that  field,  as  back  they  bore,  from  chasing  of  the  foe. 
The  spirit  of  O'Donnell  tied !  —  oh,  woe  for  Ulster,  woe  I 

Yet  died  he  there  all  gloriously  —  a  victor  in  the  fight ; 
A  chieftain  at  his  people's  head,  a  warrior  in  his  might ; 
They  dug  him  there  a  fitting  grave  upon  that,field  of  pride, 
And  a  lofty  cairn  they  raised  above,  by  fair  Lough  Swilly's  side/' 


TBE  STOUT  OF  IHELAJSJ). 


145 


In  this  story  of  Godfrey  of  Tyrconiiell  we  have  a  perfect 
illustration  of  the  state  of  affairs  in  Irehind  at  the  time. 
Studying  it,  no  one  can  marvel  tliat  the  English  power 
eventually  prevailed;  but  many  may  wonder  that  the 
struggle  lasted  so  many  centuries.  What  Irishman  can 
contemplate  without  sorrow  the  spectacle  of  those  brave 
soldiers  of  Tyrconnell  and  their  heroic  prince,  after  contend- 
ing with,  and  defeating,  the  concentrated  power  of  the 
Anglo-Norman  settlement,  called  upon  to  hurriedly  re-unite 
their  broken  and  wounded  ranks  that  they  might  fight  yet 
another  battle  against  fresh  foes  —  those  foes  their  own 
countrymen !  Only  amongst  a  people  given  over  to  the 
madness  that  precedes  destruction,  could  conduct  like  that 
of  O'Neill  be  exhibited.  At  a  moment  when  Godfrey  and 
his  battle-wounded  clansmen  had  routed  the  common  foe  — 
at  a  moment  when  they  were  known  to  be  weakened  after 
such  a  desperate  combat  —  at  a  moment  when  they  should 
have  been  hailed  with  acclaim,  and  greeted  with  aid  and 
succour  by  every  chief  and  clan  in  Ireland  —  they  are  foully 
taken  at  disadvantage,  and  called  upon  to  fight  anew,  by 
their  own  fellow-countrymen  and  neighbours  of  Tyrowen  ! 

The  conduct  of  O'Neill  on  this  occasion  was  a  fair 
sample  of  the  prevailing  practice  amongst  the  Irish 
princes.  Faction-split  to  the  last  degree,  each  one  sought 
merely  his  own  personal  advantage  or  aml)iti()n.  Nation- 
ality and  patriotism  were  sentiments  no  longer  understood. 
Bravery  in  battle,  dauntless  courage,  heroic  endurance, 
marvellous  skill,  we  find  them  displaying  to  the  last ;  but 
the  higher  political  virtues,  so  essential  to  the  existence  of 
a  nation  —  unity  of  purpose  and  of  action  against  a  conmion 
foe — recognition  of  and  obedience  to  a  central  national 
authority — were  utterly  absent.  Let  us  own  in  sorrow 
that  a  people  amongst  whom  such  conduct  as  that  of 
O'Neill  towards  Godfrey  of  Tyrconnell  was  not  only  pos- 
sible but  of  frequent  o«curr§nct,  desserved  subjection  — 


146  THE  STORY  OF  inELAXn. 

invited  it  —  rendered  it  inevitable.  Nations,  like  indi- 
viduals, must  expect  the  penalty  of  disregarding  the  first 
essentials  to  existence.  Eternal  vigilance  is  the  price  of 
liberty."  Factionism  like  that  of  the  Irish  princes  found 
its  sure  punishment  in  subjugation. 


CHAPTER  XXIV, 

HOW  THE  IRISH  NATION  AWOKE  l^tOM  ITS  TRANCE, 
AND  FLUNG  OFF  ITS  CHAINS.  THE  CAREER  OF  KING 
EDWARD  BRUCE. 

ARLY  in  the  second  century  of  the  Norman 
settlement  we  find  the  Irish  for  the  first  time 
apparently  realising  their  true  position  in  rela- 
tion to  England.  They  begin  to  appreciate  the 
fact  that  it  is  England  and  not  the  Aiiglo-Xorman  colony 
they  have  to  combat,  and  that  recognition  of  the  English 
power  means  loss  of  liberty,  loss  of  honour,  loss  of  property, 
alienation  of  the  soil!  Had  the  Irisli  awakened  sooner 
to  these  facts,  it  is  just  possible  they  might  have  exerted 
themselves  and  combined  in  a  national  struggle  against 
the  fate  thus  presaged.  But  they  awoke  to  them  too 
late  — 

The  fatal  chain  was  o^  v  them  cast. 
And  they  were  men  no  more  ! 

As  if  to  quicken  within  them  the  stings  of  self-reproach, 
they  saw  their  Gaelic  kinsmen  of  Caledonia  bravely  bat- 
tling in  compact  national  array  against  this  same  English 
power  that  had  for  a  time  conquered  them  also.  When 
King  Edward  marched  northward  to  measure  swords  with 


THE  STOBY  OF  III  KL  AS  IK 


147 


the  Scottish  rebel "  Robert  Bruce,  he  t>ummoned  his  Nor- 
man lieges  and  all  other  true  and  loyal  subjects  in  Ireland 
to  send  him  aid.  The  Anglo-Norman  lords  of  IreLand  did 
accordingly  equip  considerable  bodies,  and  with  them 
joined  the  king  in  Scotland.  The  native  Irish,  on  the 
other  hand,  sent  aid  to  Bruce ;  and  on  the  field  of  Ban- 
nockburn  old  foes  on  Irish  soil  met  once  more  in  deadly 
combat  on  new  ground  —  the  Norman  lords  and  the  Irish 
chieftains.  Twenty-one  clans,  Highlanders  and  Islesmen, 
and  many  Ulstermen  fought  on  the  side  of  Bruce  on  the 
field  of  Bannockburn.  The  grant  of  '  Kincardine-O'Neill,' 
made  by  the  victor-king  to  his  Irish  followers,  remains  a 
striking  evidence  of  their  fidelity  to  his  person  and  their 
sacrifices  in  his  cause.  The  result  of  that  glorious  day 
was,  by  the  testimony  of  all  historians,  English  as  well  as 
Scottish,  received  with  enthusiasm  on  the  Irish  side  of  the 
channel."  ^ 

Fired  by  the  glorious  example  of  their  Scottish  kinsmen, 
the  native  Irish  princes  for  the  first  time  took  up  tlie  de- 
sign of  a  really  national  and  united  effort  to  expel  the  Eng- 
lish invaders  root  and  branch.  Utterly  unused  to  union 
or  combination  as  they  had  been  for.  hundreds  of  years,  it 
is  really  wonderful  how  readily  and  successfully  they  car- 
ried out  their  design.  The  northern  Irish  princes  witli 
few  exceptions  entered  into  it;  and  it  was  agreed  that  as 
well  to  secure  the  prestige  of  Bruce's  name  and  the  alli- 
ance of  Scotland,  as  also  to  avoid  native  Irish  jealousies 
in  submitting  to  a  national  leader  or  king,  Edward  r>ruce, 
the  brother  of  King  Robert,  should  be  invited  to  land  in 
Ireland  with  an  auxiliary  liberating  army,  and  should  be 
recognized  as  king.  The  Ulster  princes,  with  Donald 
O'Neill  at  their  head,  sent  off  a  memorial  to  the  Pope 
(John  the  Twelfth),  a  document  which  is  still  extant,  and 


1  M'Gec. 


148  Tlli:  STOBY  OF  IRELAXl). 

is,  as  may  be  supposed,  of  singular  interest  and  impor- 
tance. In  this  memorable  letter  the  Irisli  prinees  acquaint 
his  Holiness  with  their  national  design  ;  and  having  refer- 
ence to  the  bulls  or  letters  of  popes  Adrian  and  Alexan- 
der, they  proceed  to  justify  their  resolution  of  destroying 
the  hated  English  power  in  their  country,  and  point  out 
the  fraud  and  false  pretence  upon  which  those  documents 
were  obtained  by  King  Henry  from  the  pontiffs  named. 
The  sovereign  pontiff  appears  to  have  been  profoundly 
moved  by  the  recital  of  facts  in  this  remonstrance  or  me- 
morial. Not  long  after  he  addressed  to  the  English  king 
(Edward  the  Third)  a  letter  forcibly  reproaching  the  Eng- 
lish sovereigns  who  had  obtained  those  bulls  from  popes 
Adrian  and  Alexander,  with  the  crimes  of  deceit  and  viola- 
tion of  their  specific  conditions  and  covenants.  To  the  ob- 
jects of  those  bulls,  his  Holiness  says,  neither  King  Henry 
nor  his  successors  paid  any  regard  ;  but,  passing  the  bounds 
that  had  been  prescribed  for  them,  they  had  heaped  upon 
the  Irish  the  most  unheard-of  miseries  and  persecutions, 
and  had,  during  a  long  period,  imposed  on  them*  a  yoke  of 
slavery  which  could  not  be  borne.'' 

The  Irish  themselves  were  now,  however,  about  to  make 
a  brave  effort  to  break  that  unbearable  yoke,  to  terminate 
those  miseries  and  persecutions,  and  to  establish  a  national 
throne  once  more  in  the  land.  On  the  25th  May,  1315, 
Edward  Bruce,  the  invited  deliverer,  landed  near  Glenarm 
in  Antrim,  with  a  force  of  six  thousand  men.  He  was 
instantly  joined  by  Donald  O'Neill,  prince  of  Ulster,  and 
throughout  all  the  northern  half  of  the  island  the  most 
intense  excitement  spread.  Tlie  native  Irish  flocked  to 
Bruce's  standard ;  the  Anglo-Normans,  in  dismay,  liurried 
from  all  parts  to  encounter  this  truly  formidable  danger, 
and  succeeded  in  compelling,  or  inducing,  the  Connacian 
prince,  O'Connoi',  to  join  them.  Meanwhile  the  Scotto- 
Irish  army  marched  southward,  defeating  every  attempt 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


149 


of  the  local  English  garrisons  to  obstruct  its  victorious 
progress.  The  lord  justice,  coming  from  Dublin  with  all 
the  forces  he  could  bring  from  the  south,  and  Richard  de 
Burgo,  Anglo-Norman  titular  earl  of  Ulster,  hurrying 
from  Athlone  with  a  powerful  contingent  raised  in  the 
west,  came  up  with  the  national  army  at  Ardee,  too  late 
however,  to  save  that  town,  which  the  Irish  had  just  cap- 
tured and  destroyed.  This  Earl  Richard  is  known  in 
Anglo-Irish  history  as  "  the  Red  Earl."  He  was  the  most 
prominent  character,  and  in  every  sense  the  greatest  —  the 
ablest  and  most  powerful  and  influential  —  man  of  that 
century  amongst  the  Anglo-Norman  rulers  or  nobles.  As 
a  matter  of  fact,  his  influence  and  power  over-topped  and 
over-shadowed  that  of  the  lord  justice;  and,  singular  to 
relate,  the  king's  letters  and  writs,  coming  to  Ireland,  were 
invariably,  as  a  matter  of  form,  addressed  to  him  in  the 
first  instance,  that  is,  his  name  came  first,  and  that  of  the 
lord  justice  for  the  time  being  next.  He  was,  in  truth, 
king  of  the  Anglo-Normans  in  Ireland.  He  raised  armies, 
levied  war,  made  treaties,  conferred  titles,  and  bestowed 
lands,  without  the  least  reference  to  the  formal  royal  dep- 
uty—  the  lord  justice  in  Dublin  —  whom  he  looked  down 
upon  with  disdain.  Accordingly,  when  these  two  mag- 
nates met  on  this  occasion,  the  Red  Earl  contemptuously 
desired  the  lord  justice  to  get  him  back  to  his  castle  of 
Dublin  as  quickly  as  he  pleased,  for  that  he  himself,  Earl 
Richard,  as  befitted  his  titled  rank  of  earl  of  Ulster,  would 
take  in  hands  the  work  of  clearing  the  province  of  th^ 
Scottish-Irish  army,  and  would  guarantee  to  deliver  Ed- 
ward Bruce,  living  or  dead,  into  the  justice's  hands  ere 
many  days.  Notwithstanding  this  haughty  speech,  the 
lord  justice  and  his  forces  remained,  and  the  combined 
army  now  confronted  Bruce,  outnumberiug  lihn  hopelessly  ; 
whereupon  he  commenced  to  retreat  slowly,  his  object 
being  to  effect,  either  by  military  strategy  or  diplomacy,  a 


150 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


separation  of  the  enemy's  forces.  This  object  was  soon 
accomplished.  When  the  Connacian  king,  Felim  O'Con- 
nor, joined  the  Red  Earl,  and  marched  against  Bruce,  in 
his  own  principality  his  act  was  revolted  against  as  parri- 
cidal treason.  Ruari,  son  of  Cathal  Roe  O'Conor,  head 
of  the  Clanna-Murtough,  unfurled  the  national  flag,  de- 
clared for  the  national  cause,  and  soon  struck  for  it  boldly 
and  decisively.  Hurriedly  dispatching  envoys  to  Bruce, 
tendering  adhesion,  and  requesting  to  be  commissioned  or 
recognized  as  prince  of  Connaught.in  place  of  Felim,  who 
had  forfeited  by  fighting  against  his  country  at  such  a 
crisis,  he  meanwhile  swept  through  all  the  west,  tearing 
down  the  Xorman  rule  and  erecting  in  its  stead  the  na- 
tional authority,  declaring  the  penalty  of  high  treason 
against  all  who  favoured  or  sided  with  the  Xorman  enem}^ 
or  refused  to  aid  the  national  cause.  Felim  heard  of  these 
proceedings  before  Ruari's  envoj's  reached  Bruce,  and 
quickly  saw  that  his  only  chance  of  safety  —  and  in  truth 
the  course  most  in  consonance  with  his  secret  feelings  — 
was,  himself,  to  make  overtures  to  Bruce,  which  he  did; 
so  that  about  the  time  Ruari's  envoys  arrived,  Felim's 
offers  were  also  before  the  Scotto-Irish  commander.  Valua- 
ble as  were  Ruari's  services  in  the  west,  the  greater  and 
more  urgent  consideration  was  to  detach  Felim  from  the 
Norman  army,  which  thus  might  be  fought,  but  which 
otherwise  could  not  be  withstood.  Accordingly,  Bruce 
came  to  terms  with  Felim,  and  answered  to  Ruari  that  he 
was  in  no  way  to  molest  the  possessions  of  Felim,  who 
was  now  on  the  right  side,  but  to  take  all  lie  could  from 
the  common  enemy  the  English.  Felim,  in  pursuance  of 
his  agreement  with  Bruce,  now  withdrew  from  the  English 
camp  and  faced  homeward,  whereupon  Bruce  and  O'Neill, 
no  longer  afraid  to  encounter  the  enemy,  though  still  supe- 
rior to  them  in  numbers,  gave  battle  to  the  loixl  justice. 
A  desperate  engagement  ensued  at  Connoyr,  on  the  bank> 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAXI). 


151 


of  the  river  Bann,  near  Ballymena.  The  great  Norman 
army  was  defeated ;  the  haughty  Earl  Richard  was  obliged 
to  seek  personal  safety  in  flight ;  his  brother,  William,  with 
quite  a  number  of  other  Norman  knights  and  nobles,  being- 
taken  prisoners  by  that  same  soldier-chief  whom  he  had 
arrogantly  undertaken  to  capture  and  present,  dead  or 
alive,  within  a  few  days,  at  Dublin  Castle  gate  !  The  shat- 
tered forces  of  the  lord  justice  retreated  southward  as  best 
they  could.  The  Red  Earl  fled  into  Connaught,  where,  for  a 
year,  he  was  fain  to  seek  safety  in  comparative  obscurity, 
shorn  of  all  povv^er,  pomp,  and  possessions.  Of  these,  what 
he  had  not  lost  on  the  battle-field  at  Connoyr,  he  found 
wrested  from  him  by  the  Prince  of  Tyrconnell,  who,  by 
way  of  giving  the  Red  Earl  something  to  do  near  home, 
had  burst  down  upon  the  Anglo-Norman  possessions  in 
the  west,  and  levelled  every  castle  that  flew  the  red  flag 
of  England !  The  Irish  army  now  marched  southward 
once  more,  capturing  all  the  great  towns .  and  Norman 
castles  on  the  way.  At  Loughsweedy,  in  West-Meath, 
Bruce  and  O'Neill  went  into  winter  quarters,  and  spent 
their  Christmas  '*in  the  midst  of  the  most  considerable 
chiefs  of  Ulster,  Meath,  and  Connaught." 

Thus  closed  the  first  campaign  in  this,  the  first  really 
national  war  undertaken  against  the  English  power  in  Ire- 
land. '^The  termination  of  his  first  campaign  on  Irish 
soil,"  says  a  historian,  might  be  considered  highly  favour- 
able to  Bruce.  More  than  half  the  clans  had  risen,  and 
others  were  certain  to  follow  their  example  ;  tlie  clergy  were 
almost  wholly  with  him,  and  his  heroic  brother  had  prom- 
ised to  lead  an  army  to  his  aid  in  the  ensuing  spring." 

In  the  early  spring  of  the  succeeding  year  (1316)  he 
opened  the  next  campaign  by  a  march  southwards.  The 
Anglo-Norman  armies  made  several  ineffectual  efforts  to 
bar  his  progress.  At  Kells,  in  King's  County  of  the  prevS- 
ent  day.  Sir  Roger  Mortimer  at  the  liead  of  fifteen  thou- 


152 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


sand  men  made  the  most  determined  stand.  A  great  battle 
ensued,  the  Irish  utterly  routing  this  the  last  army  of  an}' 
proportions  now  opposed  to  them.  Soon  after  this  deci- 
sive victory,  Bruce  and  O'Neill  returned  northwards  in 
proud  exultation.  Already  it  seemed  that  the  liberation 
of  Ireland  was  complete.  Having  arrived  at  Dundalk,  the 
national  army  halted,  and  preparations  were  commenced 
for  the  great  ceremonial  that  was  to  consummate  and  com- 
memorate the  national  deliverance.  At  a  solemn  council 
of  the  native  princes  and  chiefs,  Edward  Bruce  was  elected 
king  of  Ireland ;  Donald  O'Neill,  the  heart  and  head  of  the 
entire  movement,  formally  resigning  by  letters  patent  in 
favour  of  Bruce  such  rights  as  belonged  to  him  as  son  of 
the  last  acknowledged  native  sovereign.  After  the  elec- 
tion, the  ceremonial  of  inauguration  was  carried  out  in  the 
native  Irish  forms,  with  a  pomp  and  splendour  such  as  had 
not  been  witnessed  since  the  reign  of  Brian  the  First.  This 
imposing  ceremony  took  place  on  the  hill  of  Knocknemelan, 
within  a  mile  of  Dundalk ;  and  the  formal  election  and  in- 
auguration being  over,  the  king  and  the  assembled  princes 
and  chiefs  marched  in  procession  into  the  town,  where  the 
solemn  consecration  took  place  in  one  of  the  churches. 
King  Edward  now  established  his  court  in  the  castle  of 
Northburg,  possessing  and  exercising  all  the  prerogatives, 
powers,  and  privileges  of  royalty,  holding  courts  of  justice, 
and  enforcing  such  regulations  as  were  necessary  for  the 
welfare  and  good  order  of  the  country, 


THE  STORY  OF  IB  EL  AND. 


153 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

HOW  THIS  BRIGHT  DAY  OF  INDEPENDENCE  WAS  TURNED 
TO  GLOOM.  HOW  THE  SEASONS  FOUGHT  AGAINST  IRE- 
LAND, AND  FAMINE  FOR  ENGLAND. 

^^^^^HE  Anglo-Irish  power  was  almost  extinct.  It 
would  probably  never  more  have  been  heard  of, 
^2J^^  and  the  newly-revived  nationality  would  have 
lasted  long,  and  prospered,  had  there  not  been 
behind  that  broken  and  ruined  colony  all  the  resources  of 
a  great  and  powerful  nation.  The  English  monarch  sum- 
moned to  a  conference  with  himself  in  London  several  of 
the  Anglo-Irish  barons,  and  it  was  agreed  by  all  that 
nothing  but  a  compact  union  amongst  themselves,  strong 
reinforcements  from  England,  and  the  equipment  of  an 
army  of  great  magnitude  for  a  new  campaign  in  Ireland, 
could  avert  the  complete  and  final  extinction  of  the  Eng- 
lish power  in  that  country.  Preparations  were  accordingly 
made  for  placing  in  the  field  such  an  army  as  had  never 
before  'been  assembled  by  the  Anglo-Irish  colony.  King- 
Edward  of  Ireland,  on  the  other  hand,  was  fully  conscious 
that  the  next  campaign  would  be  the  supreme  trial,  and 
both  parties,  English  and  Irish,  prepared  to  put  forth  their 
utmost  strength.  True  to  his  promise.  King  Robert  of 
Scotland  arrived  to  the  aid  of  his  brother,  bringing  with 
him  a  small  contingent.  The  royal  brothers  soon  opened 
the  campaign.  Marching  southwards  at  the  head  of  thirty- 
six  thousand  men,  they  crossed  the  Boyne  at  Slane,  and 
soon  were  beneath  the  walls  of  Castleknock,  a  powerful 
Anglo-Norman  fortress,  barely  three  miles  from  the  gate 
of  Dublin,  Castleknock  was  assaulted  and  taken,  the 
governor  Hugh  Tyrell  being  made  prisoner.    The  Irish 


THE  STORY  OF  III  EL  AX  D. 


and  Scotch  kings  took  up  their  quarters  in  the  castk\  and 
the  Anglo-Normans  of  Dublin,  gazing  from  the  city  walls, 
could  see  between  them  and  the  setting  sun  the  royal  stand- 
ards of  Ireland  and  Scotland  floating  proudly  side  by  side  I 
In  this  extremity  the  citizens  of  Dublin  exhibited  a  spirit  of 
indomitable  courage  and  determination.  To  their  action 
in  this  emergency  —  designated  by  some  as  the  desperation 
of  wild  panic,  but  by  others,  in  my  opinion  more  justly, 
intrepidity  and  heroic  public  spirit  —  they  saved  the  chief 
seat  of  Anglo-Norman  authority  and  power,  the  loss  of 
which  at  that  moment  would  have  altered  the  whole  fate 
and  fortunes  of  the  ensuing  campaign.  Led  on  by  the 
mayor,  they  exhibited  a  frantic  spirit  of  resistance,  burning 
down  the  suburbs  of  their  city,  and  freely  devoting  to  de- 
molition even  their  churches  and  priories  outside  the  walls, 
lest  these  should  afford  shelter  or  advantage  to  a  besieging 
army.  The  Irish  arm.y  had  no  sieging  materials,  and  could 
not  just  then  pause  for  the  tedious  operations  of  reducing 
a  walled  and  fortified  city  like  Dublin,  especially  when 
such  a  spirit  of  veliemeiit  determination  was  evinced  not 
merely  by  the  garrison  but  by  the  citizens  themselves.  In 
fact,  the  city  could  not  be  invested  without  the  coopera- 
tion of  a  powerful  fleet  to  cut  off  supplies  b}'  sea  from  Eng- 
land. The  Irish  army^  therefore,  was  compelled  to  tnrn 
away  from  Dublin,  and  leave  that  formidable  position  in- 
tact in  their  rear.  They  marched  southwaid  as  in  the 
previous  campaigns,  this  time  reaching  as  far  as  Limerick. 
Again,  as  before,  victory  followed  their  banners.  Their 
course  was  literall}'  a  succession  of  splendid  achievements. 
The  Normans  never  offered  battle  that  they  were  not  ut- 
terl}'  defeated. 

The  full  strength  of  the  English,  however,  had  not  yet 
been  available,  and  a  foe  more  deadly  and  more  ftn-midable 
than  all  the  power  of  England  was  about  to  fall  upon  the 
Irish  army. 


THE  STORY  OF  IBELAXB, 


155 


By  one  of  those  calamitous  concurrences  which  are  often 
to  be  noted  in  history,  there  fell  upon  Ireland  in  this  year 
(1317)  a  famine  of  dreadful  severitj%  The  crops  had  en- 
tirely failed  the  previous  autumn,  and  now  throughout  the 
land  the  dread  consequences  were  spreading  desolation. 
The  brothers  Bruce  each-day  found  it  more  and  more  diffi- 
cult to  provision  the  army,  and  soon  it  became  apparent 
that  hunger  and  privation  were  destroying  and  demoraliz- 
ing the  national  force.  This  evil  in  itself  was  bad  enough, 
but  a  worse  followed  upon  it.  As  privation  and  hunger 
loosed  the  bonds  of  military  discipline,  the  soldiers  spread 
themselves  over  the  country  seeking  food,  and  soon  there 
sprung  up  between  the  Scottish  contingent  and  the  Irish 
troops  and  inhabitants  bitter  ill  feeling  and  contention. 
The  Scots  —  who  from  the  very  outset  appear  to  have  dis- 
criminated nought  in  plundering  castles  and  churches 
when  the  opportunity  came  fairly  in  their  way  —  now, 
throwing  off  all  restraint,  broke  into  churches,  and  broke 
open  and  rifled  shrines  and  tombs.  The  Irish,  whose  rev- 
erence for  religion  was  always  so  intense  and  solemn,  were 
horrified  at  these  acts  of  sacrilege  and  desecration,  and 
there  gradually  spread  through  the  country  a  vague  but 
all-powerful  popular  belief  that  the  dreadful  scourge  of 
famine  was  a  "  visitation  of  heaven  "  called  down  upon  the 
country  by  the  presence  of  the  irreverent  Scots  I 

Meanwhile  the  English  were  mustering  a  tremendous 
force  in  the  rear  of  the  wasted  Irish  army.  The  Bruces, 
on  learning  the  fact,  quickly  ordered  a  night  retreat,  and 
pushed  northwards  by  forced  marches.  An  Anglo-Irish 
army  of  thirty  thousand  men,  well  appointed  and  pro- 
visioned, lay  across  their  path  ;  yet  such  was  the  terror  in- 
spired by  vivid  recollection  of  the  recent  victories  of  the 
Irish  and  the  prestige  of  Bruce's  name,  that  this  vast  force, 
as  the  historian  tells  us,  hung  around  the  camp  of  the  half- 
starved  and  diminished  Scotto-Irish  army,  without  ever 


156 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


once  daring  to  attack  them  in  a  pitched  battle  I  On  the 
1st  May,  after  a  march  full  of  unexampled  suffering,  the 
remnant  of  the  Irish  army  safely  reached  Ulster. 

The  famine  now  raged  with  such  intensity  all  over  Ire- 
land, that  it  brought  about  a  suspension  of  hostilities. 
Neither  party  could  provision  an  army  in  the  field.  King 
Robert  of  Scotland,  utterly  disheartened,  sailed  homeward. 
His  own  country  was  not  free  from  suffering,  and  in  any 
event,  the  terrible  privations  of  the  past  few  months  had 
filled  the  Scottish  contingent  with  discontent.  King 
Edward,  however,  nothing  daunted,  resolved  to  stand  by 
the  Irish  kingdom  to  the  last,  and  it  was  arranged  that 
whenever  a  resumption  of  hostilities  became  feasible, 
Robert  should  send  him  another  Scottish  contingent. 

The  harvest  of  the  following  year  (1318)  was  no  sooner 
gathered  in  and  found  to  be  of  comparative  abundance, 
than  both  parties  sprang  to  arms.  The  English  command- 
er-in-chief, John  de  Birmingham,  was  quickly  across  the 
Boyne  at  the  head  of  twelve  thousand  men,  intent  on 
striking  King  Edward  before  his  hourly  expected  Scottish 
contingent  could  arrive.  The  Irish  levies  were  but  slowly 
coming  in,  and  Edward  at  this  time  had  barely  two  or 
three  thousand  men  at  hand.  Nevertheless  he  resolved  to 
mcBt  the  English  and  give  them  battle.  Donald  O'Neill 
and  the  other  native  princes  saw  the  madness  of  this  course, 
and  vainly  endeavoured  to  dissuade  the  kuig  from  it. 
They  pointed  out  that  the  true  strategy  to  be  adopted  under 
the  circumstances  was  to  gain  time,  to  retire  slowly  oji 
their  northern  base,  disputing  each  inch  of  ground,  but 
risking  no  pitched  battle  until  the  national  levies  would 
have  come  in,  and  the  Scottish  contingent  arrived,  by 
which  time,  moreover,  they  would  have  drawn  Birming- 
ham away  from  his  base,  and  would  have  him  in  a  liostile 
country.  There  can  be  no  second  opinion  about  the  merits 
of  this  scheme.    It  was  the  only  one  for  Edward  to  pursue 


THE  STORY  OF  IB  EL  Ay  D. 


15? 


just  then.  It  was  identical  with  that  which  had  enabled 
him  to  overthrow  the  Red  Earl  three  years  before  and  had 
won  the  battle  of  Connoyr.  But  the  king  was  immovable. 
At  all  times  headstrong,  self-willed,  and  impetuous,  he  now 
seemed  to  have  been  rendered  extravagantly  over-confident 
by  the  singular  fact  (for  fact  it  was),  that  never  yet  had  he 
met  the  English  in  battle  on  Irish  soil  that  he  did  not  de- 
feat them.  It  is  said  that  some  of  the  Irish  princes,  fully 
persuaded  of  the  madness  of  the  course  resolved  upon,  and 
incensed  by  the  despotic  obstinacy  of  the  king,  withdrew 
from  the  camp.  "  There  remained  with  the  iron-headed 
king,"  says  the  historian,  the  lords  Mowbray  de  Soulis  and 
Stewart,  with  the  three  brothers  of  the  latter,  Mac  Roy, 
Lord  of  the  Isles,  and  Mac  Donald,  chief  of  his  clan.  The 
neighbourhood  of  Dundalk,  the  scene  of  his  triumphs  and 
coronation,  was  to  be  the  scene  of  the  last  act  of  Bruce's 
chivalrous  and  stormy  career."  From  the  same  authority 
(M'Gee)  I  quote  the  following  account  of  that  scene  :  — 
"  On  the  14th  of  October,  1318,  at  the  Hill  of  Fuughard, 
Avithin  a  couple  of  miles  of  Dundalk,  the  advance  guard  of 
the  hostile  armies  came  into  the  presence  of  each  other, 
and  made  ready  for  battle.  Roland  de  Jorse,  the  foreign 
Archbishop  of  Armagh,  who  had  not  been  able  to  take 
possession  of  his  see,  though  appointed  to  it  seven  years 
before,  accompanied  the  Anglo-Irish,  and  moving  through 
their  ranks,  gave  his  benediction  to  their  banners.  But 
the  impetuosity  of  Bruce  gave  little  time  for  preparation. 
At  the  head  of  the  vanguard,  without  waiting  for  the  whole 
of  his  company  to  come  up,  he  charged  the  enemy  with 
impetuosity.  The  action  became  general,  and  the  skill  of 
De  Birmingham  as  a  leader  was  again  demonstrated.  An 
incident  common  to  the  warfare  of  that  age  was,  however, 
the  immediate  cause  of  the  victory.  Master  John  de 
Maupas,  a  burgher  of  Dundalk,  believing  that  the  death  of 
the  Scottish  leader,  would  be  tht  signal  for  tht  retreat  of 


158 


THE  STOBY  OF  IB  FLAK  J). 


his  followers,  disguised  as  a  jester  or  a  fool,  sought  him 
throughout  the  field.  One  of  the  royal  esquires  named 
Gilbert  Harper,  wearing  the  surcoat  of  his  master,  was 
mistaken  for  him  and  slain  ;  but  the  true  leader  was  at 
length  found  hy  De  Maupas,  and  struck  down  with  the 
blow  of  a  leaden  plummet  or  slung-shot.  After  the  battle, 
when  the  field  was  searched  for  his  body,  it  was  found 
under  that  of  De  Maupas,  who  had  bravely  yielded  up  life 
for  life.  The  Hiberno-Scottish  forces  dispersed  in  dismay, 
and  when  King  Robert  of  Scotland  landed,  a  day  or  two 
afterwards,  he  was  met  by  the  fugitive  men  of  Carrick, 
under  their  leader  Thompson,  who  informed  him  of  his 
brother's  fate.  He  returned  at  once  into  his  own  country, 
carrying  off  the  few  Scottish  survivors.  The  head  of  the 
impetuous  Edward  was  sent  to  London,  but  the  body  was 
interred  in  the  churchj^ard  of  Faughard,  where,  within 
living  memory,  a  tall  pillar  stone  was  pointed  out  by  every 
peasant  in  the  neighbourhood  as  marking  the  grave  of 
King  Bruce." 

Thus  ended  the  first  grand  effort  of  Ireland  as  an  inde- 
pendent nation  to  expel  the  Anglo-Norman  power.  Never 
was  so  great  an  effort  so  brilliantly  successful,  yet  event- 
ually defeated  by  means  outside  and  beyond  human  skill 
to  avert,  or  human  bravery  to  withstand.  The  seasons 
fought  against  Ireland  in  this  great  crisis  of  her  fate.  A 
dreadful  scourge  struck  down  the  country  in  the  very 
moment  of  national  triumph.  The  arm  that  was  victorious 
in  battle  fell  lifeless  at  the  breath  of  this  dread  destroyer. 
To  the  singular  and  calamitous  coincidence  of  a  famine  so 
terrible  at  such  a  critical  moment  for  Ireland,  and  to  this 
alone,  was  the  ruin  of  the  national  cause  attributable.  The 
Irish  under  the  king  of  their  choice  had,  in  three  heavy 
campaigns,  shown  themselves  able  to  meet  and  overcome 
the  utmost  force  that  could  be  brought  against  them. 
England  had  put  forth  her  best  energies  and  had  been 


THE  sTOBY  OF  TBKLAXT). 


defeated.  Prestige  was  rapidly  multiplying  the  forces  and 
increasing  the  moral  and  material  resources  of  the  Irish; 
and  but  for  the  circumstances  whicli  compelled  the  retreat 
northwards  from  Limerick,  reducing  and  disorganizing 
the  national  army,  and  leading  in  a  long  train  of  still 
greater  evils,  as  far  as  human  ken  could  see,  the  inde- 
pendent nationality  of  Ireland  was  triumphantly  consoli- 
dated and  her  freedom  securely  established. 

The  battle  of  Faughard  —  or  rather  tlie  fall  of  Edward 
under  such  circumstances  —  was  a  decisive  termination  of 
the  whole  struggle.  The  expected  Scottish  contingent  ar- 
rived soon  after ;  but  all  was  over,  and  it  returned  home. 
The  English  king,  some  years  subsequentlj',  took  measures 
to  guard  against  the  recurrence  of  such  a  formidable 
danger  as  that  which  had  so  nearly  wrested  Ireland  from 
his  grasp  —  a  Scotto-Irish  alliance.  On  the  17th  March, 
1328,  a  treaty  between  England  and  Scotland  was  signed 
at  Edinburgh,  by  which  it  was  ^^tipulated  that,  in  the 
event  of  a  rebellion  against  Scotland  in  Skj'e,  Man,  or  the 
Islands,  or  against  England  in  Ireland^  the  respective  kings 
would  not  assist  each  other's  rebel  subjects."  Ireland 
had  played  for  a  great  stake,  and  lost  the  game.  The 
nation  that  had  reappeared  for  a  moment,  again  disap- 
peared, and  once  more  the  struggle  against  the  English 
power  was  waged  merely  by  isolated  chiefs  and  princes, 
each  one  acting  for  himself  alone. 


1(>0 


THE  STORT  OF  IR^ILAND. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

HOW  THE  ANGLO-IKISH  LORDS  LEARNED  TO  PREFER 
IRISH  MANNERS,  LAWS,  AND  LANGUAGE,  AND  WERE 
BECOmNG  MORE  IRISH  THAN  THE  IRISH  THEM- 
SELVES.'' HOW  THE  KING  IN  LONDON  TOOK  MEAS- 
URES TO  ARREST  THAT  DREADED  EVIL. 

UT  a  new  danger  arose  to  the  English  power.  It 
was  not  alone  fresh  armies  and  a  constant  stream 
of  subsidies  that  England  found  it  necessary  to 
be  pouring  into  Ireland,  to  insure  the  retention 
of  the  Anglo-Norman  Colony.  Something  more  became 
requisite  now.  It  was  found  that  a  constant  stream  of 
fresh  colonization  from  England,  a  frequent  change  of  gov- 
ernors, nay  further,  the  most  severe  repressive  laws,  could 
alone  keep  the  colony  English  in  spirit,  in  interest,  in 
language,  laws,  manners,  and  customs.  The  descendants 
of  the  early  Anglo-Norman  settlers  —  gentle  and  simple, 
lord  and  burgher — were  becoming  thoroughly  Hiberni- 
cised.  Notwithstanding  the  ceaseless  warfare  waged  be- 
tween the  Norman  lords  and  the  Irish  chiefs,  it  was  found 
that  the  former  were  becoming  absorbed  into  or  fused  with 
the  native  element.  The  middle  of  the  fourteenth  century 
found  the  Irish  language  and  Brehon  law,  native  Irish 
manners,  habits,  and  customs,  almost  universally  prevalent 
amongst  the  Anglo-Normans  in  Ireland ;  while  marriage 
and  "fosterage  "  —  that  most  sacred  domestic  tie  in  Gaelic 
estimation  —  were  becoming  quite  frequent  between  the 
noble  families  of  each  race.  In  fact  the  great  lords  and 
nobles  of  the  Colony  became  Chieftains,  and  their  families 
and  following,  Septs.  Like  the  Irish  chiefs,  whom  they 
imitated  in  most  things,  they  fought  against  each  other  or 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


161 


against  some  native  chief,  or  sided  with  either  of  them,  if 
choice  so  determined.  Each  earl  or  baron  amongst  them 
kept  his  bard  and  his  brehon,  like  any  native  prince  ;  and, 
in  several  instances,  they  began  to  drop  their  Anglo-Nor- 
man names  and  take  Irish  ones  instead. 

It  needed  little  penetration  on  the  part  of  the  king  and 
his  council  in  London,  to  discern  in  this  state  of  things  a 
peril  far  and  away  more  formidable  than  any  the  English 
power  had  yet  encountered  in  Ireland.  True,  the  Anglo- 
Irish  lords  had  always  as  yet  professed  allegiance  to  the 
English  sovereign,  and  had,  on  the  whole,  so  far  helped 
forward  the  English  designs.  But  it  was  easy  to  foresee 
that  it  would  require  but  a  few  more  years  of  this  process 
of  fusion  with  the  native  Irish  race  to  make  the  Anglo- 
Irish  element  Irish  in  every  sense.  To  avert  this  dreaded 
and  now  imminent  evil,  the  London  government  resolved 
to  adopt  the  most  stringent  measures.  Amongst  the  first 
of  these  was  a  royal  ordinance  issued  in  1341,  declaring 
that  whereas  it  had  appeared  to  the  King  (Edward  the 
Third)  and  his  council  that  they  would  be  better  and  more 
usefully  served  in  Ireland  by  Englishmen  whose  revenues 

*  were  derived  from  England  than  by  Irish  or  English  who 
possessed  estates  only  in  Ireland,  or  were  married  there, 
the  king's  justiciary  should  therefore,  after  diligent  in- 
quiries, remove  all  such  officers  as  were  married  or  held 
estates  in  Ireland,  and  replace  them  by  fit  Englishmen, 
having  no  personal  interest  whatever  in  Ireland.  This 
ordinance  set  the  Anglo-Irish  colony  in  a  flame.  Edward's 

.lord-deputy.  Sir  John  Morris,  alarmed  at  its  effect  on  the 
proud  and  powerful  barons,  summoned  them  to  a  parlia- 
ment to  meet  in  Dublin  to  reason  over  the  matter.  But 
they  would  have  no  reasoning  with  him.  They  contemp- 
tuously derided  his  summons,  and  called  a  parliament  of 
their  own,  which,  accordingly,  met  at  Kilkenny  in  Novem- 
ber, 1342,  whereat  they  adopted  a  strong  remonstrance, 


162 


TBE  STORY  OF  IRELANI). 


and  forwarded  it  to  the  king,  complaining  of  the  royal 
ordinance,  and  recriminating  by  alleging,  that  to  the  igno- 
rance and  incapacity  of  the  English  ofl&cials,  sent  over 
from  time  to  time  to  conduct  the  government  of  the 
colony,  was  owing  the  fact  that  the  native  Irish  had 
repossessed  themselves  of  nearly  all  the  land  that  had  ever 
hitherto  been  wrested  from  them  by  the  gallant  services 
of  themselves  (the  remonstrancers)  or  their  ancestors." 
Edward  was  obliged  to  temporise.  He  answered  this 
remonstrance  graciously,  and  "played"  the  dangerous 
barons. 

But  the  policy  of  the  ordinance  was  not  relinquished. 
It  was  to  be  pushed  on  as  opportunity  offered.  Eight 
years  subsequent  to  the  above  proceedings  —  in  1360  — 
Lionel,  son  of  King  Edward,  was  sent  over  as  lord-lieu- 
tenant. He  brought  with  him  a  considerable  army,  and 
was  to  inaugurate  the  new  system  with  great  eclat.  He 
had  personal  claims  to  assert  as  well  as  a  state  policy  to 
carry  out.  By  his  wife,  Elizabeth  de  Burgh,  he  succeeded 
to  the  empty  titles  of  earl  of  Ulster  and  lord  of  Con- 
naught,  and  the  possessions  supposed  to  follow  them ;  but 
these  were  just  then  held  by  their  rightful  Irish  owners, 
and  one  of  Lionel's  objects  was  to  obtain  them  by  force  of 
arms  for  himself.  Soon  after  landing  he  marched  against 
"  the  Irish  enemy,"  and,  confident  in  the  strength  of  newly- 
landed  legions,  he  issued  a  proclamation  "  forbidding  any 
of  Irish  birth  to  come  near  his  army."  This  arrogance 
was  soon  humbled.  His  vaunted  English  army  was  a  fail- 
ure. The  Irish  out  it  to  pieces  j  and  Prince  Lionel  was 
obliged  to  abandon  the  campaign,  and  retreated  to  Dublin 
a  prey  to  mortification  and  humiliation.  His  courtiers 
plied  him  with  flatteries  in  order  to  cheer  him.  By  a  pro- 
cess not  very  intelligible,  they  argued  that  he  conquered 
Clare,  though  O'Brien  had  utterly  defeated  him  there,  and 
compelled  him  to  fly  to  Dublin;  and  they  manufactured 


The  story  of  Ireland. 


163 


for  him  out  of  this  piece  of  adulatory  invention  the  title 
of  "  Clareyicey  But  he  only  half  accepted  these  pleasant 
fictions,  the  falseness  of  which  he  knew  too  well.  He 
recalled  his  arrogant  and  offensive  proclamation,  and  be- 
sought the  aid  of  the  Anglo-Irish.  To  gain  their  favour 
he  conferred  additional  titles  and  privileges  on  some  of 
them,  and  knighted  several  of  the  most  powerful  com- 
moners. After  an  administration  of  seven  years  it  was 
deemed  high  time  for  Lionel  to  bring  the  new  policy  into 
greater  prominence.  In  1367  he  convened  a  parliament  at 
Kilkenny,  whereat  he  succeeded  in  having  passed  that 
memorable  statute  known  ever  since  in  history  as  ''The 
Statute  of  Kilkenny"  —  the  first  formal  enactment  in  that 
''penal  code  of  race"  which  was  so  elaborately  developed 
by  all  subsequent  English  legislation  for  hundreds  of 
years.  The  act  sets  out  by  reciting  that  "  Whereas,  at  the 
conquest  of  the  land  of  Ireland,  and  for  a  long  time  after, 
the  English  of  the  said  land  used  the  English  language, 
mode  of  riding,  and  apparel,  and  were  governed  and  ruled, 
both  they  and  their  subjects,  called  Betaghese  (villeins) 
according  to  English  law,  etc. ;  but  now  many  English  of 
the  said  land,  forsaking  the  English  language,  manners, 
mode  of  riding,  laws,  and  usages,  live  and  govern  them- 
selves according  to  the  manners,  fashion,  and  language  of 
the  Irish  enemies,  and  also  have  made  divers  marriages  and 
alliances  between  themselves  and  the  Irish  enemies  afore- 
said: it  is  therefore  enacted  (amongst  other  provisions), 
that  all  intermarriages,  fosterings,  gossipred,  and  buying^ 
or  selling  with  the  enemy  shall  be  accounted  treason ;  that 
English  names,  fashions,  and  manners  shall  be  resumed 
under  penalty  of  the  confiscation  of  the  delinquent's  lands; 
that  March  laws  and  Brehon  laws  are  illegal,  and  that 
there  shall  be  no  law  but  English  law ;  that  the  Irish  shall 
not  pasture  their  cattle  on  English  lands ,  that  the  English 
shall  not  entertain  Irish  rhymers,  minstrels,  or  newsmen  \ 


164 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


and,  moreover,  that  no  '  mere  Irishman  '  shall  be  admitted 
to  any  ecclesiastical  benefice  or  religious  house  situated 
within  the  English  district." 

The  Anglo-Irish  barons  must  have  been  strangely  over- 
awed or  over-reached  when  they  were  brought  to  pass  this 
statute ;  several  of  themselves  being  at  that  moment 
answerable  to  all  its  penalties!  Its  immediate  result,  how- 
ever, well  nigh  completed  the  ruin  of  the  power  it  was 
meant  to  restore  and  strengthen.  It.  roused  the  native 
Irish  to  a  full  conception  of  the  English  policy,  and  simul- 
taneously, though  without  the  least  concert,  they  fell  upon 
the  colony  on  all  sides,  drove  in  the  outposts,  destroyed 
the  castles,  hunted  the  barons,  and  reoccupied  the  country 
very  nearly  up  to  the  walls  of  Dublin.  "O'Connor  of 
Connaught  and  O'Brien  of  Thomond,"  says  Hardiman, 
"  laid  aside  for  the  moment  their  private  feuds,  and  united 
against  the  common  foe.  The  earl  of  Desmond,  lord  jus- 
tice, marched  against  them  with  a  considerable  army, 
but  was  defeated  and  slain  (captured)  in  a  sanguinar}^ 
engagement,  fought  A.D.  1369,  in  the  county  of  Limerick. ^ 
O'Farrell,  the  chieftain  of  Annaly,  committed  great  slaugh- 
ter in  Meath.  The  O'Mores,  Cavanaghs,  O'Byrnes,  and 
O'Tooles,  pressed  upon  Leinster,  and  the  O'Neills  raised 
the  red  arm  in  the  north.  The  English  of  the  Pale  were 
seized  with  consternation  and  dismay,  and  terror  and  con- 
fusion reigned  in  their  councils,  while  the  natives  con- 
tinued to  gain  ground  upon  them  in  every  direction.  At 
this  crisis  an  opportunity  offered  such  as  had  never  before 
occurred,  of  terminating  the  dominion  of  the  English  in 
Ireland ;  but  if  the  natives  had  ever  conceived  such  a  pro- 
ject, they  were  never  sufficiently  united  to  achieve  it.  The 
opportunity  passed  away,  and  the  disunion  of  the  Irish 
saved  the  colony." 

As  for  the  obnoxious  statute,  it  was  found  impossible  to 
enforce  it  further.    Cunning  policy  did  not  risk  permanent 


THE  STOBT  OF  IBELAND. 


165 


defeat  by  pressing  it  at  such  a  moment.  It  was  allowed 
to  remain  a  dead  letter "  for  a  while ;  not  dead,  how- 
ever, but  only  slumbering. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

HOW  THE  VAIX-GLOKIOUS  RICHARD  OF  ENGLAND  AND 
HIS  OVERWHELMING  ARMY  FAILED  TO  "  DAZZLE "  OR 
CONQUER  THE  PRINCE  OF  LEINSTER.  CAREER  OF 
THE  HEROIC  ART  M'MURROGH. 

^^^^^HE  close  of  the  century  which  witnessed  the 
^^^^^^s  have  been  mentioning,  brought  about 
another  ''royal  visit"  to  Ireland.  The  weak, 
vain,  and  pomp-loving  Richard  the  Second  vis- 
ited this  country  twice  in  the  course  of  his  ill-fated  career 
—  for  the  first  time  1894.  I  would  not  deem  either  worth 
more  than  a  passing  word  (for  both  of  them  were  barren 
of  results),  were  it  not  that  they  interweave  with  the 
story  of  the  chivalrous  Art  M'Murrogh  Kavanagh," 
prince  of  Leinster,  whose  heroic  figure  stands  out  in  glori- 
ous prominence  on  this  page  of  Irish  history. 

If  the  M'Murroghs  of  Leinster  in  1170  contributed  to 
our  national  annals  one  character  of  evil  fame,  they  were 
destined  to  give,  two  centuries  later  on,  another,  illustrious 
in  all  that  ennobles  or  adorns  the  patriot,  the  soldier,  or 
the  statesman.  Eva  M'Murrogh,  daughter  of  Diarmid  the 
Traitor,  who  married  Strongbow  the  Freebooter,  claimed 
to  be  only  child  of  her  father  born  in  lawful  wedlock. 
That  there  were  sons  of  her  father  then  living,  was  not 
questioned ;  but  she,  or  her  husband  on  her  behalf,  setting 
up  a  claim  of  inheritance  to  I)iarmid's  possessions,  im- 


166 


TEE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


pugned  their  legitimacy.  However  this  may  have  been, 
the  sept  proceeded  according  to  law  and  usage  under  the 
Irish  constitution,  to  elect  from  the  reigning  family  a  suc- 
cessor to  Diarmid,  and  the}"  raised  to  the  chieftaincy  his 
son  Donal.  Thenceforth  the  name  of  M'Murrogh  is  heard 
of  in  Irish  historj^  only  in  connection  with  the  bravest  and 
boldest  efforts  of  patriotism.  Whenever  a  blow  was  to  be 
struck  for  Ireland,  the  M'Murroghs  were  the  readiest  in 
the  field  —  the  first  in  front  and  last  in  rear."  They 
became  a  formidable  barrier  to  the  English  encroachments, 
and  in  importance  were  not  second  to  any  native  power  in 
Ireland.  In  1350  the  sept  was  ruled  by  Art,  or  Arthur 
the  First,  father  of  our  hero.  To  carry  on  a  war  against 
him,"  we  are  told,  "  the  whole  English  interest  was  as- 
sessed with  a  special  tax.  Louth  contributed  twenty 
pounds,  Meath  and  Waterford  two  shillings,  on  every  caru- 
cate  (140  acres)  of  tilled  land;  Kilkenny  the  same  sum, 
with  the  addition  of  6d.  in  the  pound  on  chattels.  This 
Art  captured  the  strong  castles  of  Kilbelle,  Galbarstown, 
Rathville ;  and  although  his  career  was  not  one  of  invaria- 
ble success,  he  bequeathed  to  his  son,  also  called  Art,  in 
1375,  an  inheritance  extending  over  a  large  portion  —  per- 
haps one-half — of  the  territory  ruled  by  his  ancestors 
before  the  invasion." 

From  the  same  historian  ^  I  take  the  subjoined  sketch  of 
the  early  career  of  that  son,  Art  the  Second.  "  Art 
M'Murrogh,  or  Art  Kavanagh,  as  he  is  commonly  called, 
was  born  in  the  year  1357,  and  from  the  age  of  sixteen  and 
upwards  was  distinguished  by  his  hospitality,  knowledge, 
and  feats  of  arms.  Like  the  great  Brian,  he  was  a 
younger  son,  but  the  fortune  of  war  removed  one  by  one 
those  who  would  otherwise  have  preceded  him  in  the 
captaincy  of  his  clan  and  connections.    About  the  year 


1  M'Gee. 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


167 


1375  —  while  he  was  still  under  age  —  he  was  elected  suc- 
cessor to  his  father,  according  to  the  annalists,  who  record 
his  death  in  1417,  '  after  being  forty-two  years  in  the  gov- 
ernment of  Leinster.'  Fortunately  he  attained  command 
at  a  period  favourable  to  his  genius  and  enterprise.  His 
own  and  the  adjoining  tribes  were  aroused  by  tidings  of 
success  from  other  provinces,  and  the  partial  victories  of 
their  immediate  predecessors,  to  entertain  bolder  schemes, 
and  they  only  waited  for  a  chief  of  distinguished  ability 
to  concentrate  their  efforts.  This  chief  they  found,  where 
they  naturally  looked  for  him,  among  the  old  ruling  family 
of  the  province.  Nor  were  the  English  settlers  ignorant 
of  his  promise.  In  the  parliament  held  at  Castledermot 
in  1377,  they  granted  to  him  the  customary  annual  tribute 
paid  to  his  house.  .  .  .  Art  M'Murrogh  the  younger  not 
only  extended  the  bounds  of  his  inheritance  and  imposed 
tribute  on  the  English  settlers  in  adjoining  districts  dur- 
ing the  first  years  of  his  rule,  but  having  married  a  noble 
lady  of  the  '  Pale,'  Elizabeth,  heiress  to  the  barony  of 
Norragh,  in  Kildare,  which  included  Naas  and  its  neigh- 
bourhood, he  claimed  her  inheritance  in  full,  though  for- 
feited under  '  the  statute  of  Kilkenny,'  according  to  Eng- 
lish notions.  So  necessary  did  it  seem  to  the  deputy  and 
council  of  the  day  to  conciliate  their  formidable  neighbour, 
that  they  addressed  a  special  representation  to  King  Rich- 
ard, setting  forth  the  facts  of  the  case,  and  adding  that 
M'Murrogh  threatened,  until  this  lady's  estates  were  re- 
stored and  the  arrears  of  tribute  due  to  him  fully  dis- 
charged, he  should  never  cease  from  war,  '  but  would  join 
with  the  Earl  of  Desmond  against  the  Earl  of  Ormond, 
and  afterwards  return  with  a  great  force  out  of  Munster 
to  ravage  the  country.'  .  .  .  By  this  time  the  banner  of 
Art  M'Murrogh  floated  over  all  the  castles  and  raths  on 
the  slope  of  the  Ridge  of  Leinster,  or  the  steps  of  the 
Blackstair  hills ;  while  the  forests  along  the  Borrow  an(i 


168 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


the  Upper  Slaney,  as  well  as  in  the  plain  of  Carlow  and 
in  the  south-western  angle  of  Wicklow  (now  the  barony 
of  Shillelagh),  served  still  better  his  purposes  of  defensive 
warfare.  So  entirely  was  the  range  of  country  thus 
vaguely  defined  under  native  sway,  that  John  Griffin,  the 
English  bishop  of  Leighlin  and  chancellor  of  the  ex- 
chequer, obtained  a  grant  in  1389  of  the  town  of  Gulroes- 
town,  in  the  county  of  Dublin,  'near  the  marches  of 
O'Toole,  seeing  he  could  not  live  within  his  own  see  for 
the  rebels.'  In  1390,  Peter  Creagh,  bishop  of  Limerick, 
on  his  way  to  attend  an  Anglo-Irish  parliament,  was  taken 
prisoner  in  that  region,  and  in  consequence  the  usual  fine 
was  remitted  in  his  favour.  In  1392,  James,  the  third  earl 
of  Ormond,  gave  M'Murrogh  a  severe  check  at  Tiscoffin, 
near  Shankill,  where  six  hundred  of  his  clansmen  were 
left  dead  among  the  hills. 

"  This  defeat,  however,  was  thrown  into  the  shade  by 
the  capture  of  New  Ross,  on  the  very  eve  of  Richard's 
arrival  at  Waterford.  In  a  previous  chapter  we  have  de- 
scribed the  fortifications  erected  round  this  important  sea- 
port towards  the  end  of  the  thirteenth  century.  Since 
that  period  its  progress  had  been  steadily  onward.  In  the 
reign  of  Edward  the  Third  the  controversy  which  had  long 
subsisted  between  the  merchants  of  New  Ross  and  those  of 
Waterford,  concerning  the  trade  monopolies  claimed  by 
the  latter,  had  been  decided  in  favour  of  Ross.  At  this 
period  it  could  muster  in  its  own  defence  363  cross  bow- 
men, 1,200  long  bowmen,  1,200  pikemen,  and  104  horse- 
men—  a  force  which  would  seem  to  place  it  second  to 
Dublin  in  point  of  military  strength.  The  capture  of  so 
important  a  place  by  M'Murrogh  was  a  cheering  omen 
to  his  followers.  He  razed  the  walls  and  towers,  and  car- 
ried off  gold,  silver,  and  hostages." 

From  the  first  sentence  in  the  concluding  passage  of  the 
foregoing  extract  it  will  be  gathered,  that  it  was  at  this 


THE  STOUT  OF  IRELAND, 


169 


juncture  the  vain-giorious  Richard  made  his  first  visit  to 
Ireland.  He  had  just  recently  been  a  candidate  for  the 
imperial  throne  of  the  Germanic  empire,  and  had  been  re- 
jected in  a  manner  most  wounding  to  his  pride.  So  he 
formed  the  project  of  visiting  Ireland  with  a  display  of 
pomp,  power,  and  royal  splendour,  such  as  had  not  been 
seen  in  Europe  for  a  long  time,  and  would,  he  was  firmly 
persuaded,  enable  him  to  accomplish  the  complete  sub- 
jugation of  the  Irish  kingdom  after  the  manner  of  that 
Roman  general  who  came  and  saw  and  conquered.  Early 
in  October  he  landed  at  Waterford  with  a  force  of  30,000 
bowmen  and  4,000  men-at-arms ;  a  force  in  those  days 
deemed  ample  to  over-run  and  conquer  the  strongest  king- 
dom, and  far  exceeding  many  that  sufficed  to  change  the 
fate  of  empires  previously  and  subsequently  in  Europe. 
This  vast  army  was  transported  across  the  channel  in  a  fleet 
of  some  three  hundred  ships  or  galleys.  Great  pains  were 
taken  to  provide  the  expedition  with  all  the  appliances  and 
features  of  impressive  pageantry ;  and  in  the  king's  train, 
as  usual,  came  the  chief  nobles  of  England  —  his  uncle, 
the  duke  of  Gloster,  the  young  earl  of  March  (heir  appar- 
ent), and  of  earls  and  lords  a  goodly  attendance,  besides 
several  prelates,  abbots,  and  other  ecclesiastical  dignitaries. 
But  with  this  vast  expedition  King  Richard  accomplished 
in  Ireland  just  as  much  as  that  king  in  the  ballad,  who 
"  marched  up  the  hill,  and  then  marched  down  again."  He 
rehearsed  King  Henry  and  King  John  on  Irish  soil.  The 
Irish  princes  were  invited  to  visit  their  friend "  the 
mighty  and  puissant  king  of  England.  They  did  visit 
him,  and  were  subjected,  as  of  old,  to  the  "  dazzling " 
process.  They  were  patronizingly  fondled ;  made  to 
understand  that  their  magnanimous  suzerain  was  a  most 
powerful,  and  most  grand,  and  most  gorgeous  potentate, 
own  brother  of  the  Sun  and  Moon.  They  accepted  his 
flattering  attentions ;  but  they  did  not  altogether  so  clearly 


170 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


understand  or  accept  a  proposition  he  made  them  as  to 
surrendering  their  lands  and  chieftaincies  to  him,  and 
receiving,  instead,  royal  pensions  and  English  titles  from 
his  most  gracious  hand.  Many  of  the  Irish  princes  yielded, 
from  one  motive  or  another,  to  this  insidious  proposition. 
But  foremost  amongst  those  who  could  not  be  persuaded 
to  see  the  excellence  of  this  arrangement  was  the  young 
prince  of  Leinster,  whose  fame  had  already  filled  the  land, 
and  whose  victories  had  made  the  English  king  feel  ill  at 
ease.  Art  would  not  come  to  "  court  *'  to  reason  over  the 
matter  with  the  bland  and  puissant  king.  He  was  obdu- 
rate. He  resisted  all  "dazzling."  He  mocked  at  the  royal 
pageants,  and  snapped  his  fingers  at  the  brother  of  the  Sun 
and  Moon.  All  this  was  keenly  mortifying  to  the  vain- 
glorious Richard.  There  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  send  a 
royal  commissioner  to  treat  with  Art.  He  accordingly 
dispatched  the  earl  marshal  (Mowbray)  to  meet  and  treat 
with  the  prince  of  Leinster.  On  the  plain  of  Balligory, 
near  Carlow,  the  conference  took  place.  Art  being  accom- 
panied by  his  uncle  Malachi.  The  earl  marshal  soon 
found  that  he  had  in  Art  a  statesman  as  well  as  a  soldier 
to  treat  with.  Art  proudly  refused  to  treat  with  an  in- 
ferior. If  he  was  to  treat  at  all,  it  should  be  with  the 
king  himself!  Mowbray  had  to  bend  to  this  humiliating 
rebuff  and  try  to  palaver  the  stern  M'Murrogh.  In  vain  I 
Art's  final  answer  was,  that  "  so  far  from  yielding  his  own 
lands,  his  wife's  patrimony  in  Kildare  should  instantly  be 

restored  to  him ;  or  Of  course  this  broke  up  the 

conference.  The  earl  marshal  returned  with  the  unwel- 
come news  to  the  king,  who  flew  into  a  rage  I  What ! 
He,  the  great,  the  courtly,  the  puissant,  and  gorgeous 
King  Richard  of  England,  thus  haughtily  treated  by  a  mere 
Irish  prince  !  By  the  toe-nails  of  William  th^  Conqueror, 
this  astounding  conduct  should  meet  a  dreadful  chastise- 
ment !    He  would  wipe  out  this  haughty  prince !  ThQ 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


171 


defiant  IVrMurrogh  should  be  made  to  feel  the  might  of 
England's  royal  arm  !  So,  putting  himself  at  the  head 
of  his  grand  army,  King  Richard  set  out  wrathfuUy  to 
annihilate  Art. 

But  the  Lagenian  chief  soon  taught  him  a  bitter  lesson. 
Art's  superior  military  genius,  the  valour  of  his  troops,  and 
the  patriotism  of  the  population,  soon  caused  the  vastness 
of  the  invading  English  host  to  be  a  weakness,  not  a 
strength.  Richard  found  his  march  tedious  and  tardy.  It 
was  impossible  to  make  in  that  strange  and  hostile  country 
commissariat  arrangements  for  such  an  enormous  army. 
Impenetrable  forests  and  impassable  bogs  were  varied  only 
by  mountain  defiles  defended  with  true  Spartan  heroism 
by  the  fearless  M'Murrogh  clansmen.  Then  the  weather 
broke  into  severity  awful  to  endure.  Fodder  for  the 
horses,  food  for  the  men,  now  became  the  sole  objects  of 
each  day's  labour  on  the  part  of  King  Richard's  grand 
army;  "but,"  says  the  historian,  "  M'Murrogh  swept  off 
everything  of  the  nature  of  food  —  took  advantage  of  his 
knowledge  of  the  country  to  burst  upon  the  enemy  by 
night,  to  entrap  them  into  ambuscades,  to  separate  the 
cavalry  from  the  foot,  and  by  many  other  stratagems  to 
thin  their  ranks  and  harass  the  stragglers."  In  fine,  King 
Richard's  splendid  army,  stuck  fast  in  the  Wicklow  moun- 
tains, was  a  wreck :  while  the  vengeful  and  victorious 
Lagenians  hovered  around,  daily  growing  more  daring  in 
their  disastrous  assaults.  Richard  found  there  was  nothing 
for  it  but  to  supplicate  Art,  and  obtain  peace  at  any  price. 
A  deputation  of  the  English  and  Irish  of  Leinster  "  was 
dispatched  to  him  by  the  king,  making  humble  apologies 
and  inviting  him  to  a  conference  with  his  majesty  in  Dub- 
lin, where,  if  he  would  thus  honour  the  king,  he  should  be 
the  royal  guest,  and  learn  how  highly  his  valour  and  wis- 
dom were  esteemed  by  the  English  sovereign.  Art  acceded, 
^nd  permitted  Richard  to  make  his  way  in  peace  norths 


172 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


ward  to  Dublin,  crestfallen  and  defeated,  with  the  relics 
of  his  grand  army  and  the  tattered  rags  of  the  gilt  silk 
banners,  the  crimson  canopies  and  other  regal  "properties 
that  were  to  have    dazzled  "  the  sept  of  M'Murrogh. 

Art,  a  few  months  afterwards  followed,  according  to  in- 
vitation ;  but  he  had  not  been  long  in  Dublin  —  where 
Richard  had  by  great  exertions  once  more  established  a 
royal  court  with  all  its  splendours  —  when  he  found  him- 
self in  the  hands  of  treacherous  and  faithless  foes.  He 
was  seized  and  imprisoned  on  a  charge  of  "  conspiring  " 
against  the  king.  Nevertheless,  Richard  found  that  he 
dared  not  carry  out  the  base  plot  of  which  this  was  meant 
to  be  the  beginning.  He  had  already  got  a  taste  of  what 
he  might  expect  if  he  relied  on  fighting  to  conquer  Ireland ; 
and,  on  reflection,  he  seems  to  have  decided  that  the  over- 
reaching arts  of  diplomacy,  and  the  seductions  of  court 
life  were  pleasanter  modes  of  extending  his  nominal  sway, 
than  conducting  campaigns  like  that  in  which  he  had 
already  lost  a  splendid  army  and  tarnished  the  tinsel  of 
his  vain  prestige.  So  Art  was  eventually  set  at  liberty, 
but  three  of  his  neighbouring  fellow-chieftains  were  re- 
tained as  hostages  "  for  him ;  and  it  is  even  said,  that 
before  he  was  released,  some  form  or  promise  of  submis- 
sion was  extorted  from  him  by  the  treacherous  '4iosts  " 
who  had  so  basely  violated  the  sanctity  of  hospitality  to 
which  he  had  frankly  trusted.  Not  long  after,  an  attempt 
was  made  to  entrap  and  murder  him  in  one  of  the  Norman 
border  castles,  the  owner  of  which  had  invited  him  to  a 
friendly  feast.  As  M'Murrogh  was  sitting  down  to  the 
banquet,  it  happened  that  the  quick  eye  of  his  bard  detected 
in  the  courtyard  outside  certain  movements  of  troops  that 
told  him  at  once  what  was  afoot.  He  knew  that  if  he  or 
his  master  openly  and  suddenly  manifested  their  discovery 
of  the  danger,  they  were  lost ;  their  perfidious  hosts  would 
slay  them  at  the  board.    Striking  his  harp  to  an  old  Irish 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


173 


air,  the  minstrel  commenced  to  sing  to  the  music  ;  but  the 
words  in  the  Gaelic  tongue  soon  caught  the  ear  of  M'Mur- 
rogh.  They  warned  him  to  be  cahn,  circumspect,  yet 
ready  and  resolute,  for  that  he  was  in  the  toils  of  the  foe. 
The  prince  divined  all  in  an  instant.  He  maintained  a 
calm  demeanour  until,  seizing  a  favourable  pretext  for 
reaching  the  yard,  he  sprang  to  horse,  dashed  through  his 
foes,  and,  sword  in  hand,  hewed  his  way  to  freedom.  This 
second  instance  of  perfidy  completely  persuaded  M'Mur- 
rogh  that  he  was  dealing  with  faithless  foes,  whom  no  bond 
of  honour  could  bind,  and  with  whom  no  truce  was  safe ; 
so,  unfurling  once  more  the  Lagenian  standard,  lie  declared 
war  a  la  mort  against  the  English  settlement. 

It  was  no  light  struggle  he  thus  inaugurated.  Alone, 
unaided,  he  challenged  and  fought  for  twenty  years  *  the 
full  power  of  England ;  in  many  a  dearly  bought  victory 
proving  himself  truly  worthy  of  his  reputation  as  a  master 
of  military  science.  The  ablest  generals  of  England  were 
one  by  one  sent  to  cope  with  him ;  but  Art  outmatched 
them  in  strategy  and  outstripped  them  in  valour.  In  the 
second  year's  campaign  the  strongly  fortified  frontier  town 
and  castle  of  Carlow  fell  before  him  ;  and  in  the  next  year 
(20th  July,  1398)  was  fought  the  memorable  battle  of 
Kenlis.  "  Here,"  says  a  historian,  "  fell  the  heir  presump- 
tive to  the  English  crown,  whose  premature  removal  was 
one  of  the  causes  which  contributed  to  the  revolution  in 
England  a  year  or  two  later."  ^  We  can  well  credit  the 
next  succeeding  observation  of  the  historian  just  quoted, 
that  "  the  tidings  of  this  event  filled  the  Pale  with  con- 
sternation, and  thoroughly  aroused  the  vindictive  temper 
of  Richard.  He  at  once  dispatched  to  Dublin  his  half- 
brother,  the  earl  of  Kent,  to  whom  he  made  a  gift  of  Car- 
low  castle  and  town,  to  be  held  (if  taken)  by  knight's 


1  M'Gee. 


174  THE  STOttY  or  IRELAND. 

service.  He  then,  as  much  perhaps  to  give  occupation  to 
the  minds  of  his  people  as  to  prosecute  his  old  project  of 
subduing  Ireland,  began  to  make  preparations  for  his 
second  expedition  thither." 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

HOW  THE  VAIN-GLORIOUS  ENGLISH  KING  TRIED  ANOTHER 
CAMPAIGN  AGAINST  THE  INVINCIBLE  IRISH  PRINCE, 
AND  WAS  UTTERLY  DEFEATED  AS  BEFORE. 


F  this  second  expedition  of  King  Richard  there 
[  is  extant  an  account  written  by  a  Frenchman 
who  was  in  his  train.    In  all  its  main  features 
expeditio]!  number  two  was  a  singular  repetition 


of  expedition  number  one ;  vast  preparations  and  levies  of 
men  and  materials,  ships  and  armaments,  as  if  for  the  inva- 
sion and  subjugation  of  one  of  the  most  powerful  empires 
of  the  world ;  gorgeous  trappings,  courtly  attendants,  and 
all  the  necessaries  for  renewed  experiments  with  the  royal 
''dazzling"  policy.  Landing  at  Waterford,  Richard,  at 
the  head  of  his  panoplied  host,  marched  against  M'Mur- 
rogh,  who,  to  a  lofty  and  magniloquent  invitation  to  seek 
the  king's  gracious  clemency,  had  rudely  replied,  "  that 
he  would  neither  submit  nor  obej^  him  in  any  way ;  and 
that  he  would  never  cease  from  war  and  the  defence  of 
his  country  until  his  death."  To  the  overawing  force 
of  the  English  king,  Art  had,  as  the  French  narrator 
informs  us,  just  ''three  thousand  hardy  men,  who  did  not 
appear  to  be  much  afraid  of  the  English."  M'Murrogh's 
tactics  were  those  which  had  stood  him  in  such  good  stead 
on  the  previous  occasion.    He  removed  all  the  cattle  and 


THE  STOHY  OF  IRELAND. 


175 


corn,  food  and  fodder  of  every  kind,  as  well  as  the  women, 
children,  aged,  and  helpless  of  his  people,  into  the  interior, 
while  he  himself,  at  the  head  of  his  Spartan  band,  few, 
but  undismayed,"  took  up  a  position  at  Idrone  awaiting 
the  invaders.  Once  more  Richard  found  his  huge  army 
entangled  in  impenetrable  forests,  hemmed  in  by  bogs, 
morass,  and  mountain  —  M'Murrogh  fighting  and  retiring 
with  deadly  craft  to  draw  him  deeper  and  deeper  into 
difficulty,  '^harassing  him  dreadfully,  carrying  off  every- 
thing fit  for  food  for  man  or  beast,  surprising  and  slaying 
his  foragers,  and  filling  his  camp  nightly  with  alarm  and 
blood."  A  crumb  of  consolation  greatly  regarded  by  the 
mortified  and  humiliated  English  king  was  the  appearance 
one  day  in  his  camp  of  Art's  uncle  giving  in  submission, 
supplicating  for  himself  '^pardon  and  favour."  This 
Richard  only  too  joyfuUj^  granted ;  and,  allowing  the 
incident  to  persuade  him  that  Art  himself  might  also  be 
wavering,  a  royal  message  was  sent  to  the  Leinster  prince 
assuring  him  of  free  pardon,  and  "castles  and  lands  in 
abundance  elsewhere,"  if  only  he  would  submit.  The 
Frenchman  records  M'Murrogh's  reply :  "  MacMor  told 
the  king's  people  that  for  all  the  gold  in  the  world  he 
would  not  submit  himself,  but  would  continue  to  war  and 
endamage  the  king  in  all  that  he  could."  This  ruined 
Richard's  last  hope  of  anything  like  a  fair  pretext  for 
abandoning  his  enterprise.  He  now  relinquished  all  idea 
of  assailing  M'Murrogh,  and  marched  as  best  he  could 
towards  Dublin,  his  army  meanwhile  suffering  fearfully 
from  famine.  After  some  days  of  dreadful  privation  they 
reached  the  seashore  at  Arklow,  where  ships  with  pro- 
visions from  Dublin  awaited  them.  The  soldiers  rushed 
into  the  sea  to  reach  at  the  food,  fought  for  it  ravenously, 
and  drank  all  the  wine  they  could  seize.  Soon  after  this 
timely  relief,  a  still  more  welcome  gleam  of  fortune  fell 
upon  the  English  host.    A  messenger  arrived  from  Art 


176 


TBE  STORY  OF  lEELANl). 


expressing  his  willingness  to  meet  some  accredited  am- 
bassador from  the  king  and  discuss  the  matters  at  issue 
between  them.  Whereupon,  says  the  chronicler,  there 
was  great  joy  in  the  English  camp.  The  earl  of  Gloster 
was  at  once  dispatched  to  treat  with  Art.  The  French 
knight  was  among  the  earl's  escort,  and  witnessed  the 
meeting,  of  which  he  has  left  a  quaint  description.  He 
describes  Art  as  a  "fine  large  man,  wondrously  active.  To 
look  at  him  he  seemed  very  stern  and  savage  and  a  very 
able  man."  The  horse  which  Art  rode  especially  trans- 
fixed the  Frenchman's  gaze.  He  declares,  that  a  steed 
more  exquisitely  beautiful,  more  marvellously  fleet,  he  had 
never  beheld.  "  In  coming  down  it  galloped  so  hard,  that, 
in  my  opinion,  I  never  saw  hare,  deer,  sheep,  or  any  other 
animal,  I  declare  to  you  for  a  certainty,  run  with  such 
speed  as  it  did."  This  horse  Art  rode  ^'  without  housing 
or  saddle,"  yet  sat  like  a  king,  and  guided  with  utmost 
ease  in  the  most  astounding  feats  of  horsemanship.  "  He 
and  tlie  earl,"  the  Frenchman  tells,  "exchanged  much 
discourse,  but  did  not  come  to  agreement.  They  took 
short  leave  and  hastily  parted.  Each  took  his  way  apart, 
and  the  earl  returned  to  King  Richard."  The  announce- 
ment brought  by  his  ambassador  was  a  sore  disappointment 
to  the  king.  Art  would  only  agree  to  "peace  without 
reserve ; "  "  otherwise  he  will  never  come  to  agreement." 
"  This  speech,"  continues  the  Frenchman,  "  was  not  agree- 
able to  the  king.  It  appeared  to  me  that  his  face  grew 
pale  with  anger.  He  swore  in  great  wrath  by  St.  Ber- 
nard that  no,  never  would  he  depart  from  Ireland  till, 
alive  or  dead,  he  had  him  in  his  power." 

Rash  oath  —  soon  broken.  Little  thought  Richard  when 
he  so  hotly  swore  against  Art  in  such  impotent  anger,  that 
he  would  have  to  quit  Ireland,  leaving  Art  free,  uncon- 
quered,  and  defiant,  while  he  returned  to  England  only  to 
find  himself  a  crownless  monarch,  deposed  and  friendless, 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND, 


177 


in  a  few  brief  days  subsequently  to  meet  a  treacherous  and 
cruel  death  in  Pontefract  castle ! 

^  All  this,  however,  though  near  at  hand,  was  as  yet  in 
the  unforeseen  future ;  and  Richard,  on  reaching  Dublin, 
devoted  himself  once  more  to  ''dazzling"  revels  there. 
But  while  he  feasted  he  forgot  not  his  hatred  of  the 
indomitable  M'Murrogh.  "  A  hundred  marks  in  pure 
gold  "  were  publicly  proclaimed  by  the  king  to  any  one 
who  should  bring  to  him  in  Dublin,  alive  or  dead^  the 
defiant  prince  of  Leinster ;  against  whom,  moreover,  the 
army,  divided  into  three  divisions,  were  dispatched  upon 
a  new  campaign.  Soon  the  revels  and  marchings  were 
abruptly  interrupted  by  sinister  news  from  England.  A 
formidable  rebellion  had  broken  out  there,  headed  by  the 
banished  Lancaster.  Richard  marched  southward  with  all 
speed  to  take  shipping  at  Waterford,  collecting  on  the  way 
the  several  divisions  of  his  army.  He  embarked  for  Eng- 
land, but  arrived  too  late.  His  campaign  against  Art 
M'Murrogh  had  cost  him  his  crown,  eventually  his  life ; 
had  changed  the  dynasty  in  England,  and  seated  the  house 
of  Lancaster  upon  the  throne. 

For  eighteen  years  subsequently  the  invincible  Art 
reigned  over  his  inviolate  territory ;  his  career  to  the  last 
being  a  record  of  brilliant  victories  over  every  expedition 
sent  against  it.  As  we  wade  through  the  crowded  annals 
of  those  years,  his  name  is  ever  found  in  connection  with 
some  gallant  achievement.  Wherever  else  the  fight  is 
found  going  against  Ireland,  whatever  hand  falters  or  falls 
in  the  unbroken  struggle,  in  the  mountains  of  Wicklow 
there  is  one  stout  arm,  one  bold  heart,  one  glorious  intel- 
lect, ever  nobly  daring  and  bravely  conquering  in  the  cause 
of  native  land.  Art, ''whose  activity  defied  the  cliilling 
effects  of  age,  poured  his  cohorts  through  ScuUoge  Gap  on 
the  garrisons  of  Wexford,  taking  in  rapid  succession  in  one 
campaign  (1406)  the  castles  of  Camolins,  Ferns,  and  En- 


178 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


niscorthy.  A  few  years  subsequently  his  last  great  bat- 
tle, probably  the  most  serious  engagement  of  his  life,  was 
fought  by  him  against  the  whole  force  of  the  Pale  under 
the  walls  of  Dublin.  The  duke  of  Lancaster,  son  of  the 
king  and  lord  lieutenant  of  Ireland,  issued  orders  for  the 
concentration  of  a  powerful  army  for  an  expedition  south- 
wards against  M'Murrogh's  allies.  But  M'Murrogh  and 
the  mountaineers  of  Wicklow  now  felt  themselves  strong 
enough  to  take  the  initiative.  They  crossed  the  plain  which 
lies  to  the  north  of  Dublin  and  encamped  at  Kilmainham, 
where  Roderick,  when  he  besieged  the  city,  and  Brian  be- 
fore the  battle  of  Clontarf,  had  pitched  their  tents  of  old. 
The  English  and  Anglo-Irish  forces,  under  the  eye  of  their 
prince,  marched  out  to  dislodge  them,  in  four  divisions. 
The  first  was  led  by  the  duke  in  person  ;  the  second  by 
the  veteran  knight,  Jenicho  d'Artois ;  the  third  by  Sir 
Edward  Ferrers,  an  English  knight ;  and  the  fourth  by 
Sir  Thomas  Butler,  prior  of  the  order  of  St.  John,  after- 
wards created  by  Henry  the  Fifth,  for  his  distinguished 
service,  earl  of  Kilmain.  With  M'Murrogh  were  O'Byrne, 
O'Nolan,  and  other  chiefs,  besides  his  sons,  nephews,  and 
relatives.  The  numbers  on  each  side  could  hardly  fall 
short  of  ten  thousand  men,  and  the  action  may  be  fairly 
considered  one  of  the  most  decisive  of  those  times.  The 
duke  was  carried  back  wounded  into  Dublin ;  the  slopes 
of  Inchicore  and  the  valley  of  the  Liffey  were  strewn  with 
the  dying  and  the  dead  ;  the  river  at  that  point  obtained 
from  the  Leinster  Irish  the  name  of  Athcroe^  or  the  ford  of 
slaughter ;  the  widowed  city  was  filled  with  lamentation 
and  dismay." 

This  was  the  last  endeavour  of  the  English  power  against 
Art.  "  While  he  lived  no  further  attacks  were  made  upon 
his  kindred  or  country."  He  was  not,  alas !  destined  to 
enjoy  long  the  peace  he  had  thus  conquered  from  his 
powerful  foes  by  a  forty -four  years'  war !    On  the  12th  of 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


179 


January,  1417,  he  died  at  Ross  in  the  sixtieth  year  of  his 
age,  many  of  the  chroniclers  attributing  his  death  to  poison 
administered  in  a  drink.  Whether  the  enemies  whom  he 
had  so  often  vanquished  in  the  battle-field  resorted  to  such 
foul  means  of  accomplishing  his  removal,  is,  however,  only 
a  matter  of  suspicion,  resting  mainly  on  the  fact,  that  his 
chief  brehon,  O'Doran,  who  with  him  had  partaken  of  a 
drink  given  them  by  a  woman  on  the  wayside  as  they 
passed,  also  died  on  the  same  day,  and  was  attacked  with 
like  symptoms.  Leeches'  skill  was  vain  to  save  the  heroic 
I  hief.  His  grief-stricken  people  followed  him  to  the  grave, 
well  knowing  and  keenly  feeling  that  in  him  they  had  lost 
their  invincible  tower  of  defence.  He  had  been  called  to 
the  chieftaincy  of  Leinster  at  the  early  age  of  sixteen 
years ;  and  on  the  very  threshold  of  his  career  had  to  draw 
the  sword  to  defend  the  integrity  of  his  principality. 
From  that  hour  to  the  last  of  his  battles,  more  than  forty 
years  subsequently,  he  proved  himself  one  of  the  most 
consummate  military  tacticians  of  his  time.  Again  and 
again  he  met  and  defeated  the  proudest  armies  of  England, 
led  by  the  ablest  generals  of  the  age.  "  He  was,"  say  the 
Four  Masters,  "a  man  distinguished  for  his  hospitality, 
knowledge,  and  feats  of  arms ;  a  man  full  of  prosperity 
and  royalty;  a  founder  of  churches  and  monasteries  by 
his  bounties  and  contributions."  In  fine,  our  history 
enumerates  no  braver  soldier,  no  nobler  character,  than 
Art  M'Murrogh  "  Kavanagh,"  prince  of  Leinster. 


180 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

HOW  THE  CIVIL  WARS  IN  ENGLAND  LEFT  THE  ANGLO- 
IRISH  COLONY  TO  RUIN.  HOW  THE  IRISH  DID  NOT 
GRASP  THE  OPPORTUNITY  OF  EASY  LIBERATION. 

ITHIN  the  hundred  years  next  succeeding  the 
events  we  have  just  traced  —  the  period  em- 
braced between  1420  and  1520  —  England  was 
convulsed  by  the  great  civil  war  of  the  White 
and  Red  Roses,  the  houses  of  York  and  Lancaster.  Irish 
history  during  the  same  period  being  chiefly  a  record  of 
the  contest  for  mastery  between  the  two  principal  families 
of  the  Pale  —  the  Butlers  and  the  Geraldines.  During  this 
protracted  civil  struggle,  which  bathed  England  in  blood, 
the  colony  in  Ireland  had,  of  course,  to  be  left  very  much 
to  its  own  resources ;  and,  as  a  natural  consequence,  its 
dimensions  gradually  contracted,  or  rather  it  ceased  to 
have  any  defined  boundary  at  all,  and  the  merest  exertion 
on  the  part  of  the  Irish  must  have  sufficed  to  sweep  it  away 
completely.  Here  was,  in  fine,  the  opportunity  of  oppor- 
tunities for  the  native  population,  had  they  but  been  in  a 
position  to  avail  of  it,  or  had  they  been  capable  of  profit- 
ing by  any  opportunity,  to  accomplish  with  scarcely  an 
effort  the  complete  deliverance  of  their  country.  England 
was  powerless  for  aggression,  torn,  distracted,  wasted, 
paralysed,  by  a  protracted  civil  war.  The  lords  of  the  Pale 
were  equally  disunited  and  comparatively  helpless.  One- 
hundredth  part  of  the  exertion  put  forth  so  bravely,  yet  so 
vainly,  by  the  native  princes  in  the  time  of.  Donald  O'Neill 
and  Robert  Bruce  would  have  more  than  sufficed  them 
now  to  sweep  from  the  land  every  vestige  of  foreign  rule. 
The  chain  hung  so  loosely  that  they  had  but  to  arise  and 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


181 


shake  it  from  their  limbs.  They  literally  needed  but  to 
will  it,  and  they  were  free ! 

Yet  not  an  effort,  not  a  movement,  not  a  motion,  during 
all  this  time  —  while  this  supreme  opportunity  was  passing 
away  for  ever  —  was  made  by  the  native  Irish  to  grasp  the 
prize  thus  almost  thrust  into  their  hand  —  the  prize  of 
national  freedom !  They  had  boldly  and  bravely  striven 
for  it  before,  when  no  such  opportunity  invited  them ;  they 
were  subsequently  to  strive  for  it  yet  again  with  valour 
and  daring  as  great,  when  every  advantage  would  be  ar- 
rayed against  them.  But  now,  at  the  moment  when  they 
had  but  to  reach  out  their  hand  and  grasp  the  object  of  all 
their  endeavours,  they  seemed  dead  to  all  conceptions  of 
duty  or  policy.  The  individual  chiefs,  north,  south,  east, 
and  west,  lived  on  in  the  usual  way.  They  fought  each 
other  or  the  neighbouring  Anglo-Norman  lord  just  as 
usual,  or  else  they  enjoyed  as  a  pleasant  diversification  a 
^pell  of  tranquillity,  peace,  and  friendship.  In  the  rela- 
tions between  the  Pale  and  the  Irish  ground  there  was,  for 
the  time,  no  regular  government  "  policy  "  of  any  kind  on 
either  hand.  Each  Anglo-Norman  lord,  and  each  Irish 
chieftain,  did  very  much  as  he  himself  pleased ;  made  peace 
or  war  with  his  neighbours,  or  took  any  side  he  listed  in 
the  current  conflicts  of  the  period.  Some  of  the  Irish 
princes  do  certainly  appear  to  have  turned  this  time  of 
respite  to  a  good  account,  if  not  for  national  interests, 
for  other  not  less  sacred  interests.  Many  of  them  em- 
ployed their  lives  during  this  century  in  rehabilitating 
religion  and  learning  in  all  their  pristine  power  and  gran- 
deur. Science  and  literature  once  more  began  to  flourish ; 
and  the  shrines  of  Rome  and  Compostello  were  thronged 
with  pilgrim  chiefs  and  princes,  paying  their  vows  of  faith, 
from  the  Western  Isle.  Within  this  period  lived  Margaret 
of  Offaly,  the  beautiful  and  accomplished  queen  of  O'Car- 
roU,  king  of  Ely.    She  and  her  husband  were  munificent 


182 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


patrons  of  literature,  art,  and  science.  On  Queen  Marga- 
ret's special  invitation  the  literati  of  Ireland  and  Scotland, 
to  the  number  of  nearly  three  thousand,  held  a  "  session  " 
for  the  furtherance  of  literary  and  scientific  interests,  at 
her  palace,  near  Killeagh,  in  Offaly,  the  entire  assemblage 
being  the  guests  of  the  king  and  queen  during  their  stay. 
"  The  nave  of  the  great  church  of  Da  Sinchell  was  con- 
verted, for  the  occasion,  into  a  banqueting  hall,  where  Mar- 
garet herself  inaugurated  the  proceedings  by  placing  two 
massive  chalices  of  gold,  as  offerings,  on  the  high  altar,  and 
committing  two  orphan  children  to  the  charge  of  nurses 
to  be  fostered  at  her  charge.  Robed  in  cloth  of  gold,  this 
illustrious  lady,  who  was  as  distinguished  for  her  beauty 
as  for  her  generosity,  sat  in  queenly  state  in  one  of  the 
galleries  of  the  church,  surrounded  by  the  clergy,  the  bre- 
hons,  and  her  private  friends,  shedding  a  lustre  on  the 
scene  which  was  passing  below,  while  her  husband,  who 
had  often  encountered  England's  greatest  generals  in  bat- 
tle, remained  mounted  on  a  charger  outside  the  church 
to  bid  the  guests  welcome,  and  see  that  order  was  pre- 
served. The  invitations  were  issued,  and  the  guests  ar- 
ranged, according  to  a  list  prepared  by  O'Connor's  chief 
brehon ;  and  the  second  entertainment,  which  took  place 
at  Rathangan,  was  a  supplemental  one,  to  embrace  such 
men  of  learning  as  had  not  been  brought  together  at  the 
former  feast." 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


183 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

HOW  A  NEW  ELEMENT  OF  ANTAGONISM  CAME  INTO  THE 
STRUGGLE.  HOW  THE  ENGLISH  KING  AN'D  NATION 
ADOPTED  A  NEW  RELIGION,  AND  HOW  THE  IRISH 
HELD  FAST  BY  THE  OLD. 

HE  time  was  now  at  hand  when,  to  the  existing 
elements  of  strife  and  hatred  between  the  Irish 
and  the  English  nations,  there  was  to  be  added 
one  more  fierce  than  all  the  rest;  one  bitterly 
intensifying  the  issues  of  battle  already  knit  with  such 
deadly  vehemence  between  the  Celt  and  the  Saxon. 
Christendom  was  being  rent  in  twain  by  a  terrible  con- 
vulsion. A  new  religion  had  flung  aloft  the  standard  of 
revolt  and  revolution  against  the  successors  of  St.  Peter ; 
and  the  Christian  world  was  being  divided  into  two  hos- 
tile camps  —  of  the  old  faith  and  the  new.  This  was  not 
the  mere  agitation  of  new  theories  of  subverting  tenden- 
cies, pushed  and  preached  with  vehemence  to  the  over- 
turning of  the  old ;  but  the  crash  of  a  politico-religious 
revolution,  bursting  like  the  eruption  of  a  volcano,  and 
as  suddenly  spreading  confusion  and  change  far  and  wide. 
The  political  policy  and  the  personal  aims  and  interests  of 
kings  and  princes  gave  to  the  new  doctrines  at  their  very 
birth  a  range  of  dominion  greater  than  original  Christi- 
anity itself  had  been  able  to  attain  in  a  century.  Almost 
instantaneously,  princes  and  magnates  grasped  at  the  new 
theories  according  as  personal  or  state  policy  dictated. 
To  each  and  all  of  them  those  theories  offered  one  most 
tempting  and  invaluable  advantage  — supremacy^  spiritual 
and  temporal,  unshadowed,  unrestrained,  unaccountable, 
iincl  irresponsible  on  earth.    No  more  of  vexing  conflicts 


184 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


with  the  obstinate  Roman  Pontiffs.  No  more  of  suppli- 
cations to  the  Holy  See  ''with  whispering  breath  and 
bated  humbleness,"  if  a  divorce  was  needed  or  a  new  wife 
sighted  while  yet  the  old  one  was  alive.  No  more  of 
humiliating  submissions  to  the  penances  or  conditions 
imposed  by  that  antique  tribunal  in  the  Eternal  City ;  but 
each  one  a  king,  spiritual  as  well  as  temporal,  in  his  own 
dominions.  Who  would  not  hail  such  a  system  ?  There 
was  perhaps  not  one  amongst  the  kings  of  Europe  who 
had  not,  at  one  time  or  another,  been  made  to  feel  un- 
pleasantly the  restraint  put  on  him  by  the  Pope,  acting 
either  as  spiritual  pontiff  or  in  his  capacity  of  chief  arbiter 
in  the  disputes  of  the  Christian  family.  Sometimes, 
though  rarely,  this  latter  function  —  entirely  of  human 
origin  and  authority  —  seemed  to  sink  into  mere  state 
policy,  and  like  all  human  schemes,  had  its  varying  char- 
acteristics of  good  and  ill.  But  that  which  most  fre- 
quently brought  the  Popes  into  conflict  with  the  civil 
rulers  of  the  world  was  the  striving  of  the  Holy  See  to 
mitigate  the  evils  of  villeinage  or  serfdom  appertaining  to 
the  feudal  system ;  to  restrain  by  the  spiritual  authority 
the  lawless  violence  and  passion  of  feudal  lords  and  kings ; 
and,  above  all,  to  maintain  the  sanctity  and  inviolability 
of  the  marriage  tie,  whether  in  the  cottage  of  the  bond- 
man or  in  the  palace  of  the  king.  To  many  of  the  Euro- 
pean sovereigns,  therefore,  the  newly  propounded  system 
—  (which  I  am  viewing  solely  as  it  affected  the  public 
policy  of  individual  princes,  prescinding  entirely  from  its 
doctrinal  aspect)  —  held  forth  powerful  attractions  ;  yet 
amongst  the  Teutonic  principalities  by  the  Rhine  alone 
was  it  readily  embraced  at  first. 

So  far,  identity  of  faith  had  prevailed  between  England 
and  Ireland ;  albeit  English  churchmen  —  archbishops, 
bishops,  priests,  and  monks  —  waged  the  national  war  in 
their  own  way  against  the  Irish  hierarchy,  clergy,  and 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND, 


185 


people,  as  hotly  as  the  most  implacable  of  the  military 
chiefs.  With  the  cessation  of  the  civil  war  in  England, 
and  the  restoration  of  English  national  power  during  the 
reign  of  the  seventh  Henry,  the  state  policy  of  strength- 
ening and  extending  the  English  colony  in  Ireland  was 
vigorously  resumed ;  and  the  period  which  witnessed  the 
outbreak  of  the  religious  revolution  in  Germany  found  the 
sensual  and  brutal  Henry  the  Eighth  engaged  in  a  savage 
war  upon  the  Irish  nation.  Henry  early  entered  the  lists 
against  the  new  doctrines.  He  wrote  a  controversial 
pamphlet  in  refutation  of  Luther's  dogmas,  and  was  re- 
warded therefor  by  an  encomiastic  letter  from  the  Pope 
conferring  on  him  the  title  of  "  Defender  of  the  Faith." 
Indeed,  ever  since  the  time  of  Adrian,  the  Popes  had 
always  been  wondrously  friendly  towards  the  English 
kings ;  much  too  ready  to  give  them  "  aid  and  comfort " 
in  their  schemes  of  Irish  subjugation,  and  much  too  little 
regardful  of  the  heroic  people  that  were  battling  so  per- 
sistently in  defence  of  their  nationality.  A  terrible  lesson 
was  now  to  awaken  Rome  to  remorse  and  sorrow.  The 
power  she  had  aided  and  sanctioned  in  those  schemes  was 
to  turn  from  her  with  unblushing  apostasy,  and  become 
the  most  deadly  and  malignant  of  her  foes ;  while  that 
crushed  and  broken  nation  whom  she  had  uninquiringly 
given  up  to  be  the  prey  of  merciless  invaders,  was  to 
shame  this  ingratitude  and  perfidy  by  a  fidelity  and  devot- 
edness  not  to  be  surpassed  in  the  history  of  the  world. 

Henry  —  a  creature  of  mere  animal  passions  —  tired  of 
his  lawful  wife,  and  desired  another.  He  applied  to  Rome 
for  a  divorce.  He  was,  of  course,  refused.  He  pressed 
his  application  again  in  terms  that  but  too  plainly  fore- 
shadowed to  the  Supreme  Pontiff  what  the  result  of  a 
refusal  might  be.  It  was,  no  doubt,  a  serious  contingency 
for  the  Holy  See  to  contemplate  —  the  defection  to  the 
new  religion  of  a  king  and  a  nation  so  powerful  as  the 


186 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


English.  In  fact,  it  would  give  to  the  new  creed  a  status 
and  a  power  it  otherwise  would  not  possess.  To  avert  this 
disaster  to  Catholicity,  it  was  merely  required  to  wrong 
one  woman  ;  merely  to  permit  a  lustful  king  to  have  his 
way,  and  sacrifice  to  his  brute  passions  his  helpless  wife. 
With  full  consciousness,  however,  of  all  that  the  refusal 
implied,  the  Holy  See  refused  to  permit  to  a  king  that 
which  could  not  be  permitted  to  the  humblest  of  his  sub- 
jects —  refused  to  allow  a  wife's  rights  to  be  sacrificed, 
even  to  save  to  the  side  of  Catholicity  for  three  centu- 
ries the  great  and  powerful  English  nation. 

Henry  had  an  easy  way  out  of  the  diflQculty.  Accord- 
ing to  the  new  system,  he  would  have  no  need  to  incur 
such  mortifying  refusals  from  this  intractable,  antiquated, 
and  unprogressive  tribunal  at  Rome,  but  could  grant  to 
himself  divorces  and  dispensations  ad  libittim.  So  he 
threw  off  the  Pope's  authority,  embraced  the  new  reli- 
gion, and  helped  himself  to  a  new  wife  as  often  as  he 
pleased ;  merely  cutting  off  the  head  of  the  discarded  one 
after  he  had  granted  himself  a  divorce  from  her. 

In  a  country  where  feudal  institutions  and  ideas  pre- 
vailed, a  king  who  could  appease  the  lords  carried  the 
nation.  In  England,  at  this  period,  the  masses  of  the  peo- 
ple, though  for  some  time  past  by  the  letter  of  the  law 
freed  from  villeinage,  were  still,  practically,  the  creatures 
of  the  lords  and  barons,  and  depended  upon,  looked  u[) 
to,  and  followed  them  with  the  olden  stolid  docility. 
Henry,  of  course,  though  he  might  himself  have  changed 
as  he  listed,  could  never  have  carried  the  nation  over  with 
him  into  the  new  creed,  had  he  not  devised  a  means  for 
giving  the  lords  and  barons  also  a  material  interest  in  the 
change.  This  he  effected  by  sharing  with  them  the  rich 
plunder  of  the  Church.  Few  amongst  the  English  no- 
bility were  proof  against  the  great  temptations  of  kingly 
favour  and  princely  estates,  and  the  great  perils  of  kingly 


TEE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


187 


anger  and  confiscations.  For,  in  good  truth,  even  at  a 
very  early  stage  of  the  business,  to  hesitate  was  to  lose 
life  as  well  as  possessions,  inasmuch  as  Henry  unceremo- 
niously chopped  off  the  heads  of  those  who  wavered  or 
refused  to  join  him  in  the  new  movement.  The  feudal 
system  carried  England  bodily  over  with  the  king.  Once 
he  was  able  to  get  to  his  side  (by  proposing  liberal  bribes 
out  of  the  plundered  abbey  lands)  a  sufficient  number  of 
the  nobles,  the  game  was  all  in  his  hands.  The  people 
counted  for  nothing  in  such  a  system.  They  went  with 
their  lords,  like  the  cattle  stock  on  the  estates.  The 
English  bishops,  mostly  scions  of  the  noble  houses,  were 
not  greatly  behind  in  the  corrupt  and  cowardly  accept- 
ance of  the  king's  scheme ;  but  there  were  in  the  episco- 
pacy noble  and  glorious  exceptions  to  this  spectacle  of 
baseness.  The  body  of  the  clergy,  too,  made  a  brave 
struggle  for  a  time ;  but  the  king  and  the  nobles  made 
light  of  what  they  could  do.  A  brisk  application  of  the 
axe  and  the  block  —  a  rattling  code  of  penalties  for  pre- 
munire  and  so  forth  —  and  soon  the  troublesome  priests 
were  all  either  killed  off  or  banished. 

But  now,  thought  Henry,  what  of  Ireland  !  How  is  the 
revolution  likely  to  be  received  by  the  English  colony 
there  ?  In  truth,  it  was  quite  a  ticklish  consideration ; 
and  Henry  appears  to  have  apprehended  very  nearly  that 
which  actually  resulted  —  namely,  that  in  proportion  as 
the  Anglo-Irish  lords  had  become  Hibernicised,  they  would 
resist  that  revolution,  and  stand  by  the  old  faith ;  while 
those  of  them  least  imbued  with  Irish  sentiment  would 
proportionately  be  on  his  side.  Amongst  the  former,  and 
of  all  others  most  coveted  now  and  feared  for  their  vast 
influence  and  power,  were  the  Geraldines.  Scions  of  that 
great  house  had  been  amongst  the  earliest  to  drop  their 
distinctive  character  as  Anglo-Norman  lords,  and  become 
Anglo-Irish  chiefs  —  adopting  the  institutions,  laws,  Ian- 


188 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


guage,  manners,  and  customs  of  the  native  Irish.  For 
years  the  head  of  the  family  had  been  kept  on  the  side  of 
the  English  power,  simply  by  confiding  to  him  its  supreme 
control  in  Ireland ;  but  of  the  Irish  sympathies  of  Clan 
Gerald,  Henry  had  misgivings  sore,  and  ruefully  suspected 
now  that  it  would  lead  the  van  in  a  powerful  struggle  in 
Ireland  against  his  politico-religious  revolution.  In  fact, 
at  the  very  moment  in  which  he  was  plunging  into  his 
revolt  against  the  Pope,  a  rebellion,  led  by  a  Geraldine 
chief,  was  shaking  to  its  foundations  the  English  power  in 
Ireland  —  the  rebellion  of  "  Silken  Thomas." 


CHAPTER  XXXL 

"  THOSE  GERALDIKES  !    THOSE  GERALDINES  !  " 

^S^^HE  history  of  the  Geraldine  family  is  a  perfect 
romance,  and  in  many  respects  outrivals  the  cre- 
ations of  fiction.  From  the  earliest  period  of 
their  settlement  in  Ireland  they  attained  to  a  posi- 
tion of  almost  kingly  power,  and  for  full  five  hundred  years 
were  the  foremost  figures  in  Anglo-Irish  history.  Yet  with 
what  changing  fortunes  !  Now  vice-kings  reigning  in  Dub- 
lin, their  vast  estates  stretching  from  Maynooth  to  Lixnaw, 
their  strong  castles  sentinelling  the  land  from  sea  to  sea ! 
Anon  captive  victims  of  attainder,  stripped  of  every  earthly 
honour  and  possession ;  to-day  in  the  dungeon,  to-morrow 
led  to  the  scaffold  I  Now  a  numerous  and  powerful  fam- 
ily—  a  fruitful,  strong,  and  wide-spreading  tree.  Anon 
hewn  down  to  earth,  or  plucked  up  seemingly  root  and 
branch,  beyond  the  possibility  of  further  existence ;  yet 
mysteriously  preserved  and  budding  forth  from  some  sin- 


THE  STORY  OF  lUELANB. 


189 


gle  seedling  to  new  and  greater  power !  Often  the  Gerald- 
ine  stock  seemed  extinct;  frequently  its  jealous  enemies  — 
the  English  king  or  his  favourites  —  made  safe  and  sure 
(as  they  thought)  that  the  dangerous  line  was  extirpated. 
Yet  as  frequently  did  they  find  it  miraculously  resurgent, 
grasping  all  its  ancient  power  and  renewing  all  its  ancient 
glory. 

At  a  very  early  period  the  Geraldine  line  was  very  nearly 
cut  off  for  ever,  but  was  preserved  in  the  person  of  one 
infant  child,  under  circumstances  worthy  of  narration.  In 
the  year  1261  a  pitched  battle  was  fought  between  the  jus- 
ticiary, Lord  Thomas  Fitzgerald,  and  the  MacCarthy  More, 
at  a  glen  a  few  miles  east  of  Kenmare  in  Kerry.  It  was  a 
formidable  engagement,  in  which  each  side  put  forth  all 
its  resources  of  military  generalship  and  strength  of  levies. 
The  Irish  commander  completely  out-generalled  the  Nor- 
mans. At  the  close  of  a  protracted  and  sanguinary  battle 
they  were  routed  with  fearful  slaughter.  Lord  Thomas 
being  mortally  wounded,  and  his  son,  besides  numerous 
barons  and  knights,  left  dead  upon  the  field.  Alas ! " 
continues  the  narrative  of  O'Daly  (who  wrote  in  the  year 
1655),  "  the  whole  family  of  the  Geraldines  had  well  nigh 
perished  ;  at  one  blow  they  were  cut  off  —  father  and  son ; 
and  now  there  remained  but  an  infant  one  year  old,  to  wit, 
the  son  of  John  Fitz-Thomas,  recently  slain.  The  nurse, 
who  had  heard  the  dismal  tidings  at  Tralee,  ran  about 
here  and  there  distraught  with  grief,  and  left  the  cradle  of 
the  young  Geraldine  without  a  watcher ;  thereupon  an  ape 
(which  was  kept  for  amusement's  sake)  came  and  raised 
the  infant  out  of  the  cradle  and  carried  him  to  the  top 
of  the  castle.  There,  to  the  astonishment  of  those  who 
passed  by,  the  ape  took  off  the  babe's  swaddling  clothes, 
licked  him  all  over,  clothed  him  again,  and  brought  him 
back  to  his  cradle  safe  and  sound.  Then  coming  to  the 
aurse,  as  it  were  in  reproof  for  her  neglect,  he  dealt  her  a 


190 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELANl), 


blow.  Ever  after  was  that  babe  called  Thomas  a  n'  Appa  ; 
that  is,  '  of  the  Ape  ; '  and  when  he  grew  to  man's  estate 
he  was  ennobled  by  many  virtues.  Bravely  did  he  avenge 
his  father's  and  grandfather's  murder,  and  reerect  the  for- 
tunes of  his  house. ^  He  left  a  son,  Maurice  Fitz-Thomas, 
who  was  the  first  earl  of  Desmond." 

Of  Lord  Thomas,  the  sixth  earl,  is  related  a  romantic, 
yet  authentic  story,  known  to  many  Irish  readers.  .While 
on  a  hunting  expedition  in  some  of  the  lonely  and  pictur- 
esque glens  in  North  Kerry,  he  was  benighted  on  his 
homeward  way.  Weary  and  thirsting,  he  urged  his  steed 
forward  through  the  tangled  wood.  At  length,  through 
the  gloom  he  discerned  close  by  an  humble  cottage,  which 
proved  to  be  the  dwelling  of  one  of  his  own  retainers  or 
clansmen,  named  MacCormick.  Lord  Thomas  rode  to  the 
door,  halted,  and  asked  for  a  drink.  His  summons  was 
attended  to  and  his  request  supplied  by  Catherine,  the 
daughter  of  the  cottager,  a  young  girl  whose  simple  grace 
and  exquisite  beauty  struck  the  young  earl  with  astonish- 
ment—  and  with  warmer  feelings  too.  He  dismounted  and 
rested  awhile  in  the  cottage,  and  became  quite  charmed  with 
the  daughter  of  its  humble  host.  He  bade  her  farewell, 
resolving  to  seek  that  cottage  soon  again.  Often  subse- 
quently his  horse  bore  him  thither;  for  Lord  Thomas  loved 
Catherine  MacCormick,  and  loved  her  purely  and  honoura- 
bly. Not  perhaps  without  certain  misgivings  as  to  the 
results  did  he  resolve  to  make  her  his  wife  ;  yet  never  did 
he  waver  in  that  resolve.  In  due  time  he  led  the  beautiful 
cottage  girl  to  the  altar,  and  brought  her  home  his  wife. 

His  worst  fears  were  quickly  realised.  His  kindred  and 
clansmen  all  rose  against  him  for  this  mesalliance^  which, 
according  to  their  code,  forfeited  for  him  lands  and  title  ! 
In  va,in  he  pleaded.    An  ambitious  uncle,  James,  eventu- 

1  To  this  incident  is  attributed  the  circumstance  that  the  armorial  en- 
signs of  the  Geraldine  family  exhibit  tAvo  apes  as  supporters. 


TBE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


191 


ally  seventh  eaii,  led  the  movement  against  him,  and, 
claiming  for  himself  the  title  and  estates  thus  "forfeited," 
was  clamourous  and  uncompassionate.  Lord  Thomas  at 
the  last  nobly  declared  that  even  on  the  penalty  thus  in- 
exorably decreed  against  him,  he  in  no  wise  repented  him 
of  his  marriage,  and  that  he  would  give  up  lands  and  titles 
rather  than  part  with  his  peasant  wife.  Relinquishing 
everything,  he  bade  an  eternal  adieu  to  Ireland,  and  sailed 
with  his  young  wife  for  France,  where  he  died  at  Rouen 
in  1420.  This  romantic  episode  of  authentic  history  fur- 
nished our  natSofial  melodist  with  the  subject  of  the  fol- 
lowing verses :  — 

"  By  the  Feal's  wave  benighted, 

No  star  in  the  skies, 
To  thy  door  by  love  lighted, 

I  first  saw  those  eyes. 
Some  voice  whispered  o'er  me, 

As  the  threshold  I  crossed, 
There  was  ruin  before  me ; 

If  I  lov'd,  I  was  lost. 

Love  came,  and  brought  sorrow 

Too  soon  in  his  train  ; 
,   Yet  so  sweet,  that  to-morrow 

'T  were  welcome  again  ! 
Though  misery's  full  measure 

My  portion  should  be, 
I  would  drain  it  with  pleasure 

If  poured  out  by  thee ! 

"  You,  who  call  it  dishonour 

To  bow  to  love's  flame. 
If  you 've  eyes,  look  but  on  her, 

And  blush  while  you  blame. 
Hath  the  pearl  less  whiteness 

Because  of  its  birth? 
Hath  the  violet  less  brightness 

For  growing  near  earth  ? 


192 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


"  No  :  man  for  his  glory 

To  ancestry  flies  ; 
But  woman's  bright  story 

Is  told  in  her  eyes. 
While  the  monarch  but  traces 

Through  mortals  his  line, 
Beauty,  born  of  the  graces, 

Ranks  next  to  divine !  " 

In  the  reign  of  the  eighth  Henry,  as  well  as  for  a  long 
time  previous  thereto,  the  Geraldine  family  comprised  two 
great  branches,  of  which  the  earl  of  Desmond  and  the  earl 
of  Kildare  were  respectively  the  heads  ;  the  latter  being 
paramount.  Earlj^  in  Henry's  reign  Gerald  earl  of  Kil- 
dare, or  The  Great  Earl,"  as  he  is  called  in  the  Irish 
annals,  died  after  a  long  life,  illustrious  as  a  soldier,  states- 
man, and  ruler.  He  was  succeeded  by  his  son,  Garret 
Oge,  or  Gerald  the  younger,  who  was  soon  appointed  by 
the  crown  to  the  high  office  and  authority  of  lord  deputy 
as  vested  in  his  father.  Gerald  Oge  found  his  enemies  at 
court  active  and  restless  in  plotting  his  overthrow.  He 
had  more  than  once  to  proceed  to  England  to  make  his 
defence  against  fatal  charges,  but  invariably  succeeded  in 
vindicating  himself  with  the  king.  With  Henry,  indeed, 
he  was  apparently  rather  a  favourite ;  while,  on  the  other 
hand.  Cardinal  Wolsey  viewed  him  with  marked  suspicion. 
Kildare,  though  at  the  head  of  the  English  power  in  Ire- 
land, was,  like  many  of  the  Geraldines,  nearly  as  much 
of  an  Irish  chief  as  an  English  noble.  Not  only  was  he, 
to  the  sore  uneasiness  of  the  court  at  London,  in  friendl}^ 
alliance  with  many  of  the  native  princes,  but  he  was  allied 
by  the  closest  ties  of  kindred  and  alliance  with  the  royal 
houses  of  Ulster.  So  proud  was  he  of  this  relationship, 
that,  upon  one  occasion,  when  he  was  being  reinstated  as 
lord  deputy,  to  the  expulsion  of  Ormond,  his  accusing 
enemy,  we  are  told,  that  at  Kildare's  request  "  his  kins- 


THE  STOnr  OF  lEELAXn. 


193 


man^  Coyi  O'Neill^  carried  the  Sword  of  State  before  him 
to  St.  Thomas's  Abbey,  where  he  entertained  the  king's 
commissioners  and  others  at  a  sumptuous  banquet." 

But  soon  Gerald's  enemies  were  destined  to  witness  the 
accomplishment  of  all  their  designs  against  his  house. 
James,  earl  of  Desmond,  "  a  man  of  lofty  and  ambitious 
views,"  entered  into  a  correspondence  with  Charles  the 
Fifth,  king  of  Spain,  and  Francis  the  First  of  France,  for 
the  purpose,  some  hold,  of  inducing  one  or  other  of  those 
sovereigns  to  invade  Ireland.  What  follows  I  quote  tex- 
tually  from  O'Daly's  quaint  narrative,  as  translated  by  the 
Rev.  C.  P.  Meehan  :  — 

"Many  messages  passed  between  them,  of  all  which 
Henry  the  Eighth  was  a  long  time  ignorant.  It  is  com- 
monly thought  that  Charles  the  Fifth  at  this  time  medi- 
tated an  invasion  of  Ireland;  and  when  at  length  the 
intelligence  of  these  facts  reached  the  king  of  England, 
Cardinal  Wolsej^  (a  man  of  immoderate  ambition,  most 
inimical  to  the  Geraldines,  and  then  ruling  England  as  it 
were  by  his  nod)  caused  the  earl  to  be  summoned  to  Lon- 
don ;  but  Desmond  did  not  choose  to  place  himself  in  the 
hands  of  the  cardinal,  and  declined  the  invitation.  There- 
upon the  king  dispatched  a  messenger  to  the  earl  of  Kil- 
dare,  then  viceroy  in  Ireland,  ordering  him  to  arrest 
Desmond  and  send  him  to  England  forthwith.  On  re- 
ceipt of  the  order,  Kildare  collected  troops  and  marched 
into  Munster  to  seize  Desmond  ;  but,  after  some  time, 
whether  through  inability  or  reluctance  to  injure  his  kins- 
man, the  business  failed  and  Kildare  returned.  Then  did 
the  cardinal  poison  the  mind  of  the  king  against  Kildare, 
asseverating  that  by  his  connivance  Desmond  had  escaped 
—  (this,  indeed,  was  not  the  fact,  for  Kildare,  however  so 
anxious,  could  not  have  arrested  Desmond).  Kildare  was 
then  arraigned  before  the  privy  council,  as  Henry  gave 
willing  ear  to  the  cardinal's  assertions  ;  but  before  the 


194 


THE  ^TOnr  OF  lliFLAXn. 


viceroy  sailed  for  England,  he  coniniitted  tlie  state  and  ad- 
ministration of  Ireland  to  Thomas,  his  son  and  heir,  and 
then  presented  liimself  before  the  council.  The  cardinal 
accused  him  of  liv^h  treason  to  his  liege  sovereign,  and 
endeavoured  to  lirand  him  a^id  all  his  family  with  the 
ignominious  mark  of  disloyalty.  Kildare,  who  was  a  man 
of  bold  spirit,  and  despised  the  base  origin  of  Wolsey,  re- 
plied in  polished,  yet  vehement  language  ;  and  though  the 
cardinal  and  court  were  hostile  to  him,  nevertheless  he  so 
well  managed  the  matter,  that  lie  was  only  committed  to 
the  Tower  of  London.  But  the  cardinal,  determined  to 
carry  out  his  designs  of  vengeance,  without  knowledge  of 
the  king,  sent  private  instructions  to  the  constable  of  the 
tower  ordering  him  to  behead  the  earl  without  delay. 
When  the  constable  received  his  orders,  although  he 
knew  how  dangerous  it  was  to  contravene  the  cardinaFs 
mandate,  commiserating  the  earl,  he  made  him  aware  of 
his  instructions.  Calmly,  yet  firmly,  did  Kildare  listen  to 
the  person  who  read  his  death-warrant ;  and  then  launch- 
ing into  a  violent  invective  against  the  cardinal,  he  caused 
the  constable  to  proceed  to  the  king,  to  learn  if  such  order 
had  emanated  from  him,  for  he  suspected  that  it  was  the 
act  of  the  cardinal  unauthorised.  The  constable,  regard- 
less of  the  risk  he  ran,  hastened  to  the  king,  and,  about 
ten  o'clock  at  night,  reported  to  his  majesty  the  order  of 
the  cardinal  for  destroying  Kildare.  Thereon  the  king 
was  bitterly  incensed  against  Wolsey,  whom  he  cursed, 
and  forbade  the  constable  to  execute  any  order  not  sanc- 
tioned by  his  own  sign-manual ;  stating,  at  the  same  time, 
that  he  would  cause  the  cardinal  to  repent  of  his  usurped 
authority  and  unjust  dislike  to  Kildare.  The  constable 
returned,  and  informed  the  earl  of  his  meSvSage  ;  but  Kil- 
dare was  nevertheless  detained  a  prisoner  in  the  tower  to 
the  end  of  his  days." 

There  is,"  says  O'Daly's  translator,     a  chapter  in 


THE  STORY  OF  IBELANT). 


195 


Gait's  Life  of  Wohey  full  of  errors  and  gross  misrepresen- 
tations of  Ireland  and  the  Irish.  It  is  only  fair,  however, 
to  give  him  credit  for  the  spirited  sketch  he  has  given  of 
the  dialogue  between  Wolsey  and  Kildare.  '  My  lord,' 
said  Wolsey,  '  you  will  remember  how  the  earl  of  Des- 
mond, your  kinsman,  sent  letters  to  Francis,  the  French 
king,  what  messages  have  been  sent  to  you  to  arrest  him 
(Desmond),  and  it  is  not  yet  done  .  .  .  but,  in  perform- 
ing your  duty  in  this  affair,  merciful  God  !  how  dilatory 
have  you  been  !  .  .  .  what  I  the  earl  of  Kildare  dare  not 
venture  !  nay,  the  king  of  Kildare  ;  for  you  reign  more 
than  you  govern  the  land.'  '  My  lord  chancellor,'  replied 
the  earl,  ^  if  you  proceed  in  this  way,  I  will  forget  half  my 
defence.  I  have  no  school  tricks  nor  art  of  recollection  ; 
unless  you  hear  me  while  I  remember,  your  second  charge 
will  hammer  the  first  out  of  my  head.  As  to  my  king- 
dom, I  know  not  what  j^ou  mean.  ...  I  would  you  and 
I,  my  lord,  exchanged  kingdoms  for  one  month ,  I  would 
in  that  time  undertake  to  gather  more  crumbs  than  twice 
the  revenues  of  my  poor  earldom.  While  you  sleep  in 
your  bed  of  down,  I  lie  in  a  poor  hovel ;  while  you  are 
served  under  a  canopy,  I  serve  under  the  cope  of  heaven ; 
while  you  drink  wine  from  golden  cups,  I  must  be  content 
with  water  from  a  shell ;  mj'  charger  is  trained  for  the 
field,  your  jennet  is  taught  to  amble.'  O'Dalj  's  assertion 
that  Wolsey  issued  the  earl's  death-warrant  does  not  ap- 
pear to  rest  on  any  solid  foundation  ;  and  the  contrary' 
appears  likely,  when  such  usurpation  of  royalty  was  not 
objected  in  the  impeachment  of  the  cardinal." 


196 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

THE  KEBELLION  OF  SILKEN  THOMAS. 

HEN  Kildare  was  summoned  to  London  —  as 
it  proved  to  be  for  the  last  time  —  he  was 
called  upon  to  nominate  some  one  who  should 
act  for  him  in  his  absence,  and  for  whom  he 
himself  would  be  responsible.  Unfortunately  he  nomi- 
nated his  own  son  Thomas,^  a  hot,  impetuous,  brave,  dar- 
ing, and  chivalrous  youth,  scarce  one-and-twenty  years  of 
age.  For  some  time  the  earl  lay  in  London  Tower,  his  fate 
as  yet  uncertain;  the  enemies  of  his  house  meanwhile 
striving  steadily  to  insure  his  ruin. 

It  was  at  this  juncture  that  the  events  detailed  in  b}^- 
gone  pages  —  Henry's  quarrel  with  the  Pope,  and  the  con- 
sequent politico-religious  revolution  in  England  —  flung  all 
the  English  realm  into  consternation  and  dismay.  Amidst 
the  tidings  of  startling  changes  and  bloody  executions  in 
London  brought  by  each  mail  to  L^eland,  came  many  dis- 
quieting rumours  of  the  fate  of  the  Geraldine  earl.  The 
effect  of  these  stories  on  the  young  Lord  Thomas  seems  to 
have  suggested  to  the  anti-Geraldine  faction  a  foul  plot  to 
accomplish  his  ruin.  Forged  letters  were  circulated  giving 
out  with  much  circumstantiality  how  the  earl  his  father 
had  been  beheaded  in  the  Tower  of  London,  notwith- 
standing the  king's  promise  to  the  contrary.  The  effect  of 
this  news  on  the  Geraldine  party,  but  most  of  all  on  the 
young  Lord  Thomas,  may  be  imagined.  Stunned  for  an 
instant  by  this  cruel  blow,  his  resolution  was  taken  in  a 

1  Known  in  history  as  *'  Silken  Thomas."  He  was  so  called,  we  are 
told,  from  the  silken  banners  carried  by  his  standard-bearers  —  others  say, 
because  of  the  richness  of  liis  i)ersonal  attire. 


THE  STOIiY  OF  IRELAND. 


197 


burst  of  passionate  grief  and  anger.  Vengeance  !  ven- 
geance on  the  trebly  perjured  and  blood-guilty  king,  whose 
crimes  of  lust,  murder,  and  sacrilege  called  aloud  for 
punishment,  and  forfeited  for  him  allegiance,  throne,  and 
life  !  The  youthful  deputy  hastily  assembling  his  guards 
and  retainers,  and  surrounded  by  a  crowd  of  his  grief- 
stricken  and  vengeful  kinsmen,  marched  to  Mary's  Abbey, 
where  the  privy  council  was  already  sitting,  waiting  for 
him  to  preside  over  its  deliberations.  The  scene  at  the 
council  chamber  is  picturesquely  sketched  by  Mr.  Fer- 
guson, in  his  Hiheimian  Nights  Entertainment} 

"  Presently  the  crowd  collected  round  the  gates  began 
to  break  up  and  line  the  causeways  at  either  side,  and  a 
gallant  cavalcade  was  seen  through  the  open  arch  ad- 
vancing from  Thomas's  Court  towards  the  drawbridge. 
'  Way  for  the  lord  deputy,'  cried  two  truncheon-bearers, 
dashing  through  the  gate,  and  a  shout  arose  on  all  sides 
that  Lord  Thomas  was  coming.  Trumpeters  and  pursui- 
vants at  arms  rode  first,  then  came  the  mace-bearer  with 
his  symbol  of  office,  and  after  him  the  sword  of  state,  in  a 
rich  scabbard  of  velvet,  carried  by  its  proper  officer.  Lord 
Thomas  himself,  in  his  robes  of  state,  and  surrounded  by 
a  dazzling  arraj^  of  nobles  and  gentlemen,  spurred  after. 
The  arched  gateway  was  choked  for  a  moment  with  tossing 
plumes  and  banners,  flashing  arms  and  gleaming  faces,  as 
the  magnificent  troop  burst  in  like  a  flood  of  fire  upon  the 
dark  and  narrow  precincts  of  the  city.  But  behind  the 
splendid  cortege  which  headed  their  march,  came  a  dense 
column  of  mailed  men-at-arms,  that  continued  to  defile 
through  the  close  pass  long  after  the  gay  mantles  and 


1  The  book  here  aUuded  to,  it  may  be  right  to  remind  young  readers, 
does  not  purport  to  be  more  than  a  fanciful  story  founded  on  facts;  but  the 
author  so  closely  adheres  to  the  outlines  of  authentic  history,  that  we  may 
(;redit  his  sketches  and  descriptions  as  well  justified  approximations  to  the 
literal  truth, 


198 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAXD. 


waving  pennons  of  their  leaders  were  indistinct  in  the 
distance. 

The  gate  of  Mary's  Abbey  soon  received  the  leaders 
of  the  revolt ;  and  ere  the  last  of  their  followers  had  ceased 
to  pour  into  the  echoing  courtyard,  Lord  Thomas  and  his 
friends  were  at  the  door  of  the  council-chamber.  The 
assembled  lords  rose  at  his  entrance,  and  way  was  made 
for  him  to  the  chair  of  state. 

"  '  Keep  your  seats,  my  lords,'  said  he,  stopping  mid- 
way between  the  entrance  and  council  table,  while  his 
friends  gathered  in  a  body  at  his  back.  '  I  have  not  come 
to  preside  over  this  council,  my  lords ;  I  come  to  tell  you 
of  a  bloody  tragedy  that  has  been  enacted  in  London,  and 
to  give  you  to  know  what  steps  I  have  thought  fit  to  take 
in  consequence.' 

'  What  tragedy,  my  lord  ?  '  said  Alan,  the  archbishop 
of  Dublin;  'your  lordship's  looks  and  words  alarm  me: 
what  means  this  multitude  of  men  now  in  the  house  of 
God  ?  My  lord,  my  lord,  I  fear  this  step  is  rashly  taken  ; 
this  looks  like  something,  my  lord,  that  I  would  be  loth 
to  name  in  the  presence  of  loyal  men.' 

"  '  My  lord  archbishop,'  replied  Thomas,  '  when  you 
pretend  an  ignorance  of  my  noble  father's  murder '  — 

"  '  Murder  ! '  cried  the  lord  chancellor,  Cromer,  starting 
from  his  seat,  and  all  at  the  council  table  uttered  excla- 
mations of  astonishment  in  horror,  save  only  Alan  and  the 
lord  high  treasurer. 

"  '  Yes,  my  lord,'  the  young  Geraldine  continued,  with 
a  stern  voice,  still  addressing  the  archbishop,  '  when  you 
pretend  ignorance  of  that  foul  and  cruel  murder,  which 
was  done  by  the  instigation  and  traitorous  procuring  of 
yourself  and  others,  your  accomplices,  and  yet  taunt  me 
with  the  step  which  I  have  taken,  raslily,  as  it  may  be,  but 
not,  I  trust,  unwortliily  of  my  noble  fatlier's  son,  in  con- 
sequence, you  betray  at  once  your  treachery  and  youv 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


hypocrisy.'  By  this  time  the  tumult  among  the  sokliery 
without,  who  had  not  till  now  heard  of  tlie  death  of  the 
earl,  was  as  if  a  thousand  men  had  been  storming  the 
abbey.  They  were  all  native  Irish,  and  to  a  man  devoted 
to  Kildare.  Curses,  lamentations,  and  cries  of  rage  and 
vengeance  sounded  from  every  quarter  of  the  courtyard ; 
and  some  who  rushed  into  the  council-hall  with  drawn 
swords,  to  be  revenged  on  the  authors  of  their  calamity, 
were  with  difficulty  restrained  by  the  knights  and  gentle- 
men around  the  door  from  rushing  on  the  archbishop,  and 
slaying  him  as  they  heard  him  denounced  by  their  chief, 
on  the  spot.  When  the  clamour  was  somewhat  abated, 
Alan,  who  had  stood  up  to  speak  at  its  commencement, 
addressed  the  chancellor. 

" '  My  lord,  this  unhappy  young  man  says  he  knows 
not  what.  If  his  noble  father,  which  God  forbid,  should 
have  come  under  his  majesty's  displeasure  — if  he  should, 
indeed,  have  suffered  — although  I  know  not  that  he  hath 
—  the  penalty  of  his  numerous  treasons  '  — 

"  '  Bold  priest,  thou  liest ! '  cried  Sir  Oliver  Fitzgerald  ; 
'  my  murdered  brother  was  a  truer  servant  of  the  crown 
than  ever  stood  in  thy  satin  shoes  ! ' 

"  Alan  and  the  lord  chancellor  Cromer,  also  an  arch- 
bishop and  primate  of  Armagh,  rose  together ;  the  one 
complaining  loudly  of  the  wrong  and  insult  done  his  order ; 
the  other  beseeching  that  all  present  would  remember 
they  were  Christians  and  subjects  of  the  crown  of  Eng- 
land ;  but,  in  the  midst  of  this  confusion.  Lord  Thomas, 
taking  the  sword  of  state  out  of  the  hands  of  its  bearer, 
advanced  up  the  hall  to  the  council-table  with  a  lofty  de- 
termination in  his  bearing  that  at  once  arrested  all  eyes. 
It  was  plain  he  was  about  to  announce  his  final  purpose, 
and  all  within  the  hall  awaited  what  he  would  say  in  sullen 
silence.  His  friends  and  followers  now  formed  a  dense 
semicircle  at  the  foot  of  the  hall ;  the  lords  of  the  council 


200  THE  ^STOUY  OF  IHELANl), 

Lad  involuntarily  drawn  round  the  throne  and  lord  chan- 
cellor's chair;  Thomas  stood  alone  on  the  floor  opposite 
the  table,  with  the  sword  in  his  hands.  Anxiety  and  pity 
were  marked  on  the  venerable  features  of  Cromer  as  he 
bent  forward  to  hear  what  he  would  say ;  but  Alan  and 
the  treasurer,  Lord  James  Butler,  exchanged  looks  of 
malignant  satisfaction. 

"  '  My  lord,'  said  Thomas,  '  I  come  to  tell  you  that  my 
father  has  been  basely  put  to  death,  for  I  know  not  what 
alleged  treason,  and  that  we  have  taken  up  arms  to  avenge 
his  murder.  Yet,  although  Ave  be  thus  driven  by  the 
tyranny  and  cruelty  of  the  king  into  open  hostility,  we 
would  not  have  it  said  hereafter  that  we  have  conspired 
like  villains  and  churls,  but  boldly  declared  our  purpose 
as  becomes  warriors  and  gentlemen.  This  sword  of  state, 
my  lords,  is  yours,  not  mine.  I  received  it  with  an  oath, 
that  I  would  use  it  for  your  benefit ;  I  should  stain  my 
honour  if  I  turned  it  to  your  hurt.  My  lords,  I  have  now 
need  of  my  own  weapon,  which  I  can  trust ;  but  as  for 
the  common  sword,  it  has  flattered  me  not  —  a  painted 
scabbard,  while  its  edge  was  yet  red  in  the  best  blood 
of  my  house  —  aye,  and  is  even  now  whetted  anew  for  fur- 
ther destruction  of  the  Geraldines.  Therefore,  my  lords, 
save  yourselves  from  us  as  from  open  enemies.  I  am  no 
longer  Henry  Tudor's  deputy  —  I  am  his  foe.  I  have 
more  mind  to  conquer  than  to  govern  —  to  meet  him  in 
the  field  than  to  serve  him  in  office.  And  now,  my 
lords,  if  all  the  hearts  in  England  and  Ireland,  that 
have  cause  thereto,  do  but  join  in  this  quarrel,  as  I  look 
that  they  will,  then  shall  the  world  shortly  be  made  sen- 
sible of  the  tyranny,  cruelty,  falsehood,  and  heresy,  for 
which  the  age  to  come  may  well  count  this  base  king 
among  the  ancient  traitors  of  most  abominable  and  hate- 
ful memory.' 

" '  Croom  aboo  ! '  cried  Neale   Roe   O'Kennedy,  Lord 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


201 


Thomas's  bard,  who  had  pressed  into  tlie  body  of  the  hall 
at  the  head  of  the  Irish  soldiery.  He  was  conspicuous  over 
all  by  his  height  and  the  splendour  of  his  native  costume. 
His  legs  and  arms  were  bare ;  the  sleeves  of  his  yellow 
cothone,  parting  above  the  elbow,  fell  in  voluminous  folds 
almost  to  the  ground,  whilst  its  skirts,  girded  at  the  loins, 
covered  him  to  the  knee.  Over  this  he  wore  a  short 
jacket  of  crimson,  the  sleeves  just  covering  the  shoulders, 
richly  wrought  and  embroidered,  and  drawn  round  the 
waist  by  a  broad  belt,  set  with  precious  stones,  and  fastened 
with  a  massive  golden  buckle.  His  laced  and  fringed 
mantle  was  thrown  back,  but  kept  from  falling  by  a  silver 
brooch,  as  broad  as  a  man's  palm,  whicli  glittered  on  his 
breast.  He  stretched  out  his  hand,  the  gold  bracelets 
rattling  as  they  slid  back  on  the  thickness  of  his  arm,  and 
exclaimed  in  Irish  :  — 

" '  Who  is  the  young  lion  of  the  plains  of  Liffe}^  that 
affrights  the  men  of  counsel,  and  the  ruler  of  the  Saxon, 
with  his  noble  voice  ? 

'''Who  is  the  quickened  ember  of  Kildare,  that  would 
consume  the  enemies  of  his  people,  and  the  false  churls  of 
the  cruel  race  of  clan-London  ? 

"'It  is  the  son  of  Gerald  —  the  top  branch  of  the  oak 
of  Offaly : 

'"It  is  Thomas  of  the  silken  mantle  —  Ard-Kigh  Eire- 
ann ! ' 

"'Righ  Tomas  go  bragh ! '  shouted  the  soldiery;  and 
many  of  the  young  lord's  Anglo-Irish  friends  responded  — 
'  Long  live  King  Thomas  ! '  but  the  chancellor,  archbisliop 
Cromer,  who  had  listened  to  his  insane  avowal  with  un- 
disguised distress,  and  who  had  already  been  seen  to  wring 
his  hand,  and  even  to  shed  tears  as  the  misguided  noble- 
man and  his  friends  thus  madly  invoked  their  own  de- 
struction, came  down  from  his  seat,  and  earnestly  grasping 
the  young  lord  by  the  hand,  addressed  \\m\ ;  ™ 


202 


THE  STORY  OF  111  EL  AN  I). 


"  '  Good  my  lord,'  he  cried,  while  his  venerable  figure  and 
known  attachment  to  the  house  Kildare,  attested  as  it  was 
by  such  visible  evidences  of  concern,  commanded  for  a 
time  the  attention  of  all  present.  '  Good  my  lord,  suffer 
me  to  use  the  privilege  of  an  old  man's  speech  with  you, 
before  you  finally  give  up  this  ensign  of  your  authority 
and  pledge  of  your  allegiance.'  " 

The  archbishop  reasoned  and  pleaded  at  much  length 
and  with  deep  emotion;  but  he  urged  and  praj-ed  in  vain, 
c  '  My  Lord  Chancellor,'  replied  Thomas,  '  I  came  not 
here  to  take  advice,  but  to  give  you  to  understand  what  I 
purpose  to  do.  As  loyalty  would  have  me  know  my 
prince,  so  duty  compels  me  to  reverence  my  father.  I 
thank  you  heartily  for  your  counsel ;  but  it  is  now  too 
late.  As  to  my  fortune,  I  will  take  it  as  God  sends  it,  and 
rather  choose  to  die  with  valour  and  liberty,  than  live 
under  King  Henry  in  bondage  and  villany.  Therefore,  my 
lord,  I  thank  you  again  for  the  concern  you  take  in  my 
welfare,  and  since  you  will  not  receive  this  sword  out  of 
my  hand,  I  can  but  east  it  from  me^  even  as  hei^e  I  east  off 
and  renounee  all  duty  and  allegiance  to  your  master.'' 

So  saying,  he  flung  the  sword  of  state  upon  the  coun- 
cil-table. The  blade  started  a  hand's  breadth  out  of  its 
sheath,  from  the  violence  witli  which  it  was  dashed  out 
of  his  hands.  He,  then,  in  the  midst  of  a  tumult  of  accla- 
mation from  his  followers,  and  cries  of  horror  and  pity 
from  the  lords  and  prelates  around,  tore  off  his  robes  of 
office  and  cast  them  at  liis  feet.  Stripped  thus  of  his 
ensigns  of  dignity.  Lord  Thomas  Fitzgerald  stood  up, 
amid  the  wreck  of  his  fair  fortune,  an  armed  and  avowed 
rebel,  equipped  in  complete  mail,  before  the  representa- 
tives of  England  and  Ireland.  The  cheering  from  his 
adherents  was  loud  and  enthusiastic,  and  those  without 
replied  with  cries  of  fierce  exultation." 

The   gallant   but    hapless    Geraldinc  was   now  fully 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


203 


launched  on  his  wild  and  desperate  enterprise.  There 
is  no  doubt  that,  had  it  partaken  less  of  a  hasty  burst  of 
passionate  impetuosity,  had  it  been  more  deliberately 
planned  and  organized,  the  revolt  of  Silken  Thomas  might 
have  wrested  the  Anglo-Irish  colony  from  Henry's  author- 
ity. As  it  was,  it  shook  the  Anglo-Irish  power  to  its  base, 
and  at  one  time  seemed  irresistible  in  its  progress  to 
success.  But,  however  the  ties  of  blood,  kindred,  and 
clanship  might  draw  men  to  the  side  of  Lord  Thomas, 
most  persons  outside  the  Geraldine  party  soon  saw  the 
fate  that  surely  awaited  such  a  desperate  venture,  and  saw 
too  that  it  had  all  been  the  result  of  a  subtle  plot  of  the 
Ormond  faction  to  ruin  their  powerful  rivals.  Moreover, 
in  due  time  the  truth  leaked  out  that  the  old  earl  had  not 
been  beheaded  at  all,  but  was  alive  a  prisoner  hi  London. 
Lord  Thomas  now  saw  the  gulf  of  ruin  into  which  he 
had  been  precipitated,  and  knew  now  that  his  acts  would 
only  seal  the  doom  or  else  break  the  heart  of  that  father, 
the  news  of  whose  murder  had  driven  him  into  this  des- 
perate course.  But  it  was  all  too  late  to  turn  back.  He 
would  see  the  hopeless  struggle  through  to  the  bitter  end. 

One  of  his  first  acts  was  to  besiege  Dublin  city  while- 
another  wing  of  his  army  devastated  the  possessions  and 
reduced  the  castles  of  Ormond.  Alan,  the  archbishop  of 
Dublin,  a  prominent  enemy  of  the  Geraldines,  fled  from 
the  city  by  ship.  The  vessel,  however,  was  driven  ashore 
on  Clontarf,  and  the  archbishop  sought  refuge  in  tlie 
village  of  Artane.  News  of  this  fact  was  quickly  carried 
into  the  Geraldine  camp  at  Dublin  ;  and  before  day's-dawn 
Lord  Thomas  and  his  uncles,  John  and  Oliver,  Avith  an 
armed  party,  reached  Artane,  and  dragged  the  archbishop 
from  his  bed.  The  unhappy  prelate  pleaded  hard  for  his 
life  ;  but  the  elder  Geraldines,  who  were  men  of  savage 
passion,  barbarously  murdered  him  as  he  knelt  at  their 
feet.    This  foul  deed  ruined  any  prospect  of  success  which 


204 


THE  ^6TOUY  OF  lit  ELAND. 


tlieir  cause  might  have  had.  It  excited  universal  horror, 
and  drew  down  upon  its  perpetrators,  and  all  who  should 
aid  or  shelter  them,  the  terrible  sentence  of  excommuni- 
cation. This  sentence  was  exhibited  to  the  hapless  earl  of 
Kildare  in  his  dungeon  in  London  Tower,  and,  it  is  said,  so 
affected  him  that  he  never  rallied  more.  He  sank  under 
the  great  load  of  his  afflictions,  and  died  of  a  broken 
lieart. 

Meanwliile,  Lord  Thomas  was  pushing  the  rebellion 
with  all  his  energies,  and  for  a  time  with  wondrous  suc- 
cess. He  dispatched  ambassadors  to  the  emperor  Charles 
the  Fifth,  and  to  the  Pope,  demanding  aid  in  this  war 
against  Henry  as  the  foe  of  God  and  man.  But  it  is  clear 
that  neither  the  Pope  nor  the  emperor  augured  well  of 
Silken  Thomas's  ill-devised  endeavours.  No  succours 
reached  him.  His  fortunes  eventually  began  to  pale. 
Powerful  levies  were  brought  against  him ;  and,  finally, 
he  sought  a  parley  with  the  English  commander-in-chief, 
Lord  Leonard  Gray,  who  granted  him  terms  of  life  for 
himself  and  vmcles.  Henry  was  wroth  that  any  terms 
should  have  been  promised  to  such  daring  foes;  but  as 
terms  had  been  pledged,  there  was  nothing  for  it,  accord- 
ing to  Henry's  code  of  morality,  but  to  break  the  promise. 
Accordingly,  the  five  uncles  of  Silken  Thomas,  and  the 
unfortunate  young  nobleman  himself,  were  treacherously 
seized  —  the  uncles  at  a  banquet  to  which  they  were  in- 
vited, and  which  was,  mdeed,  given  in  their  honour,  by 
the  lord  deputy  Grey  —  and  brought  to  London,  where,  in 
violation  of  plighted  troth,  they  were  all  six  beheaded  at 
Tyburn,  3d  January,  1537. 

This  terrible  blow  was  designed  to  cut  off  the  Geraldine 
family  for  ever,  and  to  all  appearance  it  seemed,  and 
Henry  fondly  believed,  that  this  wholesale  execution  had 
accomplished  that  design,  and  left  neither  root  nor  seed 
l)ehind.     Yet  once   again    lliat   mysterious  protection. 


Tttl^  STOBY  OF  iPiFLAN'J). 


205 


which  had  so  often  preserved  the  Geraldiiie  line  in  like 
terrible  times,  saved  it  from  the  decreed  destruction. 
"  The  imprisoned  earl  (Lord  Thomases  father)  having  died 
in  the  tower  on  the  12th  December,  1534,  the  sole  survivor 
of  this  historic  house  was  now  a  child  of  twelve  years  of 
age,  whose  life  was  sought  with  an  avidity  equal  to 
Herod's,  but  who  was  protected  with  a  fidelity  which  de- 
feated every  attempt  to  capture  him.  Alternately  the 
guest  of  his  aunts,  married  to  the  chiefs  of  Offaly  and 
Donegal,  the  sympathy  everywhere  felt  for  him  led  to  a 
confederacy  between  the  northern  and  southern  chiefs, 
which  had  long  been  wanting.  A  loose  league  was  formed, 
including  the  O'Neills  of  both  branches,  O'Donnell, 
O'Brien,  the  earl  of  Desmond,  and  the  chiefs  of  Moylurg 
and  Breffni.  The  lad,  the  object  of  so  much  natural  and 
chivalrous  affection,  was  harboured  for  a  time  in  Munster, 
thence  transported  through  Connaught  into  Donegal,  and 
finally,  after  four  years,  in  which  he  engaged  more  of  the 
minds  of  statesmen  than  any  other  individual  under  the 
rank  of  royalty,  was  safely  landed  in  France." 

The  Geraldine  line  was  preserved  once  more !  From 
this  child  Gerald  it  was  to  branch  out  as  of  yore,  in 
stately  strength  and  princely  power. 


206 


THE  STonr  OF  IBELAND. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

HOW    THE    "  REFORMATION  "    WAS    ACCOMPLISHED  IX 
ENGLAND,  AND  HOW  IT  WAS  RESISTED  IN  IRELAND. 

HAVE  so  far  called  the  event,  usually  termed 
the  Reformation,  a  politico-religious  revolution, 
and  treated  of  it  only  as  such.  With  phases  of 
religious  belief  or  the  propagandism  of  new  reli- 
gious doctrines,  unless  in  so  far  as  they  affected  political 
events  or  effected  marked  national  changes,  I  do  not  pur- 
pose dealing  in  this  Story.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  however, 
the  Reformation  was  during  the  reign  of  Henry  much  less 
of  a  religious  than  a  political  revolution.  The  only  points 
Henry  was  particular  about  were  the  matters  of  supremaot/ 
and  church  property.  For  a  long  period  the  idea  of  adopt- 
ing the  new  form  of  faith  in  all  its  doctrinal  sequence 
seemed  quite  foreign  to  his  mind.  The  doctrine,  firstly, 
that  he,  Henry,  was  supreme  king,  spiritual  as  well  as  tem- 
poral, within  his  own  realms ;  the  doctrine,  secondly,  that 
he  could,  in  virtue  of  such  spiritual  supremacy,  give  full 
rein  to  his  beastly  lusts,  and  call  concubinage  marriage ; 
and  lastly,  that  whatever  property  the  Church  possessed, 
bequeathed  for  pious  uses,  he  might  rob  and  keep  for  him- 
self, or  divide  as  bribes  between  his  abetting  nobles,  legis- 
lators, and  statesmen  —  these  were  the  reforms,"  so-called, 
upon  which  the  king  set  most  value.  Other  matters  he 
allowed  for  a  time  to  have  their  way ;  at  least  it  was  so 
wherever  difficulty  was  anticipated  in  pulling  down  the  old 
and  setting  up  new  forms  of  worship.  Thus  we  find  the 
king  at  the  same  time  sending  a  "  reforming  "  archbishop 
to  Dublin  wiiile  sanctioning  prelates  of  the  old  faith  in 
other  dioceses,  barelj^  on  condition  of  taking  the  oath  of 


TBr.  Stont  0^  IRELAND. 


207 


allegiance  to  him.  Doctrine  or  theology  had  scarcely  any 
concern  for  him  or  his  statesmen,  and  it  is  clear  and  plain  to 
any  student  of  history,  that  if  the  Catholic  Church  would 
only  sanction  to  him  his  polygamy,  and  to  them  the  rich 
plunder  they  had  clutched,  they  would  never  have  gone 
further,  and  would  still  be  wondrous  zealous  defenders 
of  the  faith."  But  the  Catholic  Church,  which  could  have 
avoided  the  whole  disaster  at  the  outset  by  merely  suffer- 
ing one  lawful  wife  to  be  unlawfully  put  away,  was  not 
going  to  compromise,  with  him  or  with  them,  an  iota  of 
sacred  truth  or  public  morality,  much  less  to  sacrifice  both 
wholesale  after  this  fashion.  So,  in  time,  the  king  and  his 
party  saw  that  having  gone  so  far,  they  must  needs  go  the 
whole  way.  Like  the  panther  that  has  tasted  blood,  their 
thirst  for  plunder  was  but  whetted  by  their  taste  of  Church 
spoil.  They  should  go  farther  or  they  might  lose  all.  They 
knew  right  well  that  of  these  spoils  they  never  could  rest 
sure  as  long  as  the  owner,  the  Catholic  Church,  was  allowed 
to  live ;  so  to  kill  the  Church  outright  became  to  them  as 
much  of  a  necessity  as  the  sure  ''dispatching"  of  a  half- 
murdered  victim  is  to  a  burglar  or  an  assassin.  Had  it 
not  been  for  this  question  of  Church  property — had  there 
been  no  plunder  to  divide  —  in  all  human  probability 
there  would  have  been  no  "  reformation  "  consummated  in 
tliese  countries.  But  by  the  spoils  of  the  sanctuary  Henry 
was  able  to  bribe  the  nobles  to  his  side,  and  to  give  them 
such  an  interest  in  the  utter  abolition  of  Catholicity  and 
the  perpetuation  of  the  new  sj'stem,  that  no  king  or  queen 
coming  after  him  would  be  able  permanently  to  restore  the 
old  order  of  things. 

Here  the  reflection  at  once  confronts  us  —  what  a  mean, 
sordid,  worldly-minded  kennel  these  same/' nobles  "  must 
have  been  !  Aye,  mean  and  soulless  indeed  !  If  there  was 
any  pretence  of  religious  convictions  having  anything  to 
^ay  in  the  business,  no  such  reflection  would  arise ;  no  such 


208  THE  sTonr  of  ibelaxd. 

language  would  be  seemly.  But  few  or  none  of  the  parties 
cared  to  get  up  even  a  semblance  of  interest  in  the  doctri- 
nal aspect  of  the  passing  revolution.  One  object,  and  one 
alone,  seemed  fixed  before  their  gaze  —  to  get  as  much 
as  possible  of  "  what  was  going ; "  to  secure  some  of  the 
loot,  and  to  keep  it.  Given  this  one  consideration,  all 
things  else  might  remain  or  be  changed  a  thousand  times 
over  for  all  they  cared.  If  any  one  question  the  correct- 
ness of  this  estimate  of  the  conduct  of  the  English  and 
Anglo-Irish  lords  of  the  period  before  us,  I  need  only  point 
to  the  page  of  authentic  history.  They  were  a  debased 
and  cowardly  pack.  As  long  as  Henry  fed  them  with 
bribes  from  the  abbey  lands,  they  made  and  unmade 
Laws  "  to  order  "  for  him.  He  asked  them  to  declare  his 
marriage  with  Catherine  of  Aragon  invalid  —  they  did 
it ;  his  marriage  with  Anne  Boleyn  lawful  —  they  did  it ; 
this  same  marriage  unlawful  and  its  fruits  illegitimate  — 
they  did  it ;  his  marriage  with  Jane  Seymour  lawful  —  they 
did  it.  In  fine  they  said  and  unsaid,  legitimatized  and 
illegitimatized,  just  as  he  desired.  Nor  was  this  all.  In 
the  reign  of  his  child  Edward,  tliey  enacted  every  law 
deemed  necessary  for  the  more  complete  overthrow  of  the 
ancient  faith  and  the  setting  up  of  the  new.  But  no 
sooner  had  Mary  come  to  the  throne,  than  these  same  lords, 
legislators,  and  statesmen  instantaneously  wheeled  around, 
beat  their  breasts,  became  wondrously  pious  Catholics, 
whined  out  repentantly  that  they  had  been  frightful  crimi- 
nals ;  and,  like  the  facile  creatures  that  they  were,  at  the 
request  of  Mary,  or  to  please  her,  undid  in  a  rush  all  tliey 
had  been  doing  during  the  two  preceding  reigns  —  but  all 
on  one  condition,  most  significant  and  most  necessary  to 
mark,  viz. :  that  they  should  not  be  called  upon  to  give  back 
the  stolen  property!  Again  a  change  on  the  throne,  and 
again  f/i^j/  change  I  Elizabeth  comes  to  undo  all  that 
Mary  had  restored,  and  lo!  the  venal  lords  and  legislators 


fTIE  f^TOBY  OF  IRELAXn. 


201) 


in  an  instant  wheel  around  once  moiv  ;  the}-  decree  false 
and  illegitimate  all  they  had  just  declared  true  and  lawful : 
they  swallow  their  own  words,  they  say  and  unsa3%  they  re- 
peal and  reenact,  do  and  undo,  as  the  whim  of  the  queen, 
or  the  necessity  of  conserving  their  sacrilegious  robberies 
dictates ! 

Yes;  the  history  of  the  world  has  nothing  to  parallel 
the  disgusting  baseness,  the  mean  sordid  cowardice  of  the 
English  and  Anglo-Irish  lords  and  legislators.  Theirs  was 
not  a  change  of  religious  convictions,  right  or  wrong,  but 
a  greedy  venality,  a  facile  readiness  to  chaPige  ani/  way  or 
every  way  for  worldly  advantage.  Their  model  of  policy 
was  Judas  Iscariot,  who  sold  our  Lord  for  thirty  pieces  of 
silver. 

That  Ireland  also  was  not  carried  over  into  the  new 
system  was  owing  to  tlie  circumstance  that  the  Englisli 
authoritj^  had,  so  far,  been  able  to  secure  for  itself  but 
a  partial  hold  on  the  Irish  nation.  It  must  have  been  a 
curious  reflection  with  the  supreme  pontiffs,  that  Ireland 
might  in  a  certain  sense  be  said  to  have  been  saved  to  the 
Catholic  Church  by  its  obstinate  disregard  of  exhortations 
addressed  to  it  repeatedly,  if  not  by  the  popes,  under 
cover  or  ostensible  sanction  of  papal  authority,  in  support 
of  the  English  crown  ;  for  had  the  Irish  yielded  all  that  the 
English  king  demanded  with  Papal  bull  in  liand,  and  be- 
come part  and  parcel  of  the  English  realm,  Ireland,  too, 
was  lost  to  the  old  faith.  At  this  point  one  is  tempted 
to  indulge  in  bitter  reflections  on  the  course  of  tlie  Roman 
pontiffs  towards  Ireland.  Hitherto  "  —  (so  one  miglit  put 
it)  —  '*that  hapless  nation  in  its  fearful  struggle  against 
ruthless  invaders  found  Rome  on  the  side  of  its  foes.  It 
was  surely  a  hard  and  a  cruel  thing  for  the  Irisli,  so  de- 
votedly attached  to  the  Holy  See,  to  beliold  tlie  rapacious 
and  blood-thirsty  Normans,  Plantagenets,  and  Tndors,  able 
to  flourish  against  tliem  Papal  bulls  and  rescripts,  until 


210 


TBE  STOnr  OF  inELAND. 


now  when  Henr}^  quarrelled  with  Rome.  Now  —  henceforth 
— '■  too  late  —  all  that  is  to  be  altered ;  henceforth  the  bulls 
and  the  rescripts  are  all  to  exhort  the  broken  and  ruined 
Irish  nation  to  fight  valiantly  against  that  power  to  which, 
for  four  hundred  years,  the  Roman  court  had  been  exhort- 
ing or  commanding  it  to  submit.  Surely  Ireland  has  been 
the  sport  of  Roman  policy,  if  not  its  victim  !  " 

These  bitter  reflections  would  be  not  only  natural  but 
just,  if  the  facts  of  the  case  really  supported  them.  But  the 
facts  do  not  quite  support  this  view,  which,  it  is  singular 
to  note,  the  Irish  themselves  never  entertained.  At  all 
times  they  seem  to  have  most  justly  and  accurat^ely  appreci- 
ated the  real  attitude  of  the  Holy  See  towards  them,  and 
fixed  the  value  and  force  of  the  bulls  and  rescripts  obtained 
by  the  English  sovereign  at  their  true  figure.  The  conduct 
of  the  popes  was  not  free  from  reproach  in  a  particular 
subsequently  to  be  noted ;  but  the  one  thing  thej'  had 
really  urged,  rightly  or  wrongly,  on  the  Irish  from  the  first 
w^as  the  acceptance  of  the  sovereignty  of  the  English  king, 
by  no  means  implying  an  incorporation  with  the  English 
nation,  or  an  abandonment  of  their  nationality.  In  this 
sense  the  popes'  exhortations  were  always  read  by  the 
native  Irish ;  and  it  will  be  noted  that  in  this  sense  from 
the  very  beginning  the  Irish  princes  very  generally  were 
ready  to  acquiesce  in  them.  The  idea,  rightly  or  wrongly, 
appears  to  have  been  that  this  strong  sovereignty  would 
be  capable  of  reducing  the  chaotic  elements  in  Ireland 
(given  up  to  such  hopeless  disorder  previously)  to  com- 
pactness and  order  —  a  good  to  Ireland  and  to  Christen- 
dom. This  was  the  guise  in  which  the  Irish  question  had 
always  been  presented  by  plausible  English  envoys,  civil 
or  ecclesiastical,  at  Rome.  The  Irish  themselves  did  not 
greatly  quarrel  with  it  so  far;  but  there  was  all  the  differ- 
ence in  the  world  between  this  the  theory  and  the  bloody 
and  barbarous  fact  and  practice  as  revealed  in  Ireland. 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND.  211 

What  may  be  said  with  truth  is,  that  the  popes  inquired 
too  little  about  the  fact  and  practice,  and  were  always  too 
ready  to  write  and  exhort  upon  such  a  question  at  the  in- 
stance of  the  English.  The  Irish  chiefs  were  sensible  of 
this  wrong  done  them ;  but  in  their  every  act  and  word 
they  evidenced  a  perfect  consciousness  that  the  rectitude  of 
the  motives  animating  the  popes  was  not  to  be  questioned. 
Even  when  the  authority  of  the  Holy  See  was  most  pain- 
fully misused  against  them,  they  received  it  with  reverence 
and  respect.  The  time  had  at  length  arrived,  however, 
when  Rome  was  to  mourn  over  whatever  of  error  or  wrong 
had  marked  its  past  policy  towards  Ireland,  and  for  ever 
after  nobly  and  unchangeably  to  stand  by  her  side.  ^  But 
alas !  too  late  —  all  too  late  now  for  succeeding  I  All  the 
harm  had  been  done,  and  was  now  beyond  repairing.  The 
grasp  of  England  had  been  too  firmly  tightened  in  the  past. 
At  the  very  moment  when  the  Pope  desired,  hoped,  urged, 
and  expected  Ireland  to  arise  triumphant  and  glorious,  a 
free  Catholic  nation,  a  recompense  for  lost  England,  she 
sank  broken,  helpless,  and  despairing  under  the  feet  of  the 
sacrilegious  Tudor. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

HOW  THE  IRISH  CHIEFS  GAVE  UP  ALL  HOPE  AND  YIELDED 
TO  HENRY ;  AND  HOW  THE  IRISH  CLANS  SERVED  THE 
CHIEFS  FOR  SUCH  TREASON. 

ENRY  THE  EIGHTH  was  the  first  English 
sovereign  styled  King  of  Ireland,  and  it  must 
be  confessed  he  had  more  to  show  for  assuming 
such  a  title  than  his  predecessors  had  for  the 
lesser  dignities  of  the  kind  which  they  claimed;  inasmuch 


212  THE  STORY  OF  lEELAXP, 

as  the  title  was  voted to  liiiii  in  the  first  formal  parlia- 
ment in  which  Irish  chieftains  and  Anglo-Xorman  lords 
sat  side  by  side.  To  be  sure  the  Irish  chieftains  had  no 
authority  from  the  septs  (from  AAdiom  alone  they  derived 
any  authority  or  power)  to  give  sucli  a  vote  :  and,  as  we 
shall  learn  presently,  some  of  those  septs  instantly  on  be- 
coming aware  of  it  and  tlie  consequences  it  implied,  de- 
posed the  chiefs  thus  acting,  and  promptly  elected  (in  each 
case  from  the  same  family  however)  others  in  their  stead. 
But  never  previously  had  so  many  of  the  native  princes 
in  a  manner  so  formal  given  in  their  acknowledgment  of 
the  English  dynasty,  and  their  renunciation  of  the  ancient 
institutions  of  their  nation.  Utterly  broken  down  in  spirit, 
reft  of  hope,  weary  of  struggle,  they  seem  to  have  yielded 
themselves  up  to  inevitable  fate.  The  arguments,"  says 
one  of  our  historians,  "  by  which  man}^  of  the  chiefs  might 
have  justified  themselves  to  the  clans  in  1541-2-3,  for  sub- 
mitting to  the  inevitable  laws  of  necessity,  in  rendering 
liomage  to  Hemy  the  Eighth,  were  neither  few  nor  weak. 
Abroad  there  was  no  hope  of  an  alliance  sufficient  to 
counterbalance  the  immense  resources  of  England ;  at 
home,  life-wasting  private  wars,  the  conflict  of  laws,  of  lan- 
guages, and  of  titles  to  property  had  become  unbearable. 
That  fatal  family  pride  which  would  not  permit  an  O'Brien 
to  obey  an  O'Neill,  nor  an  O'Connor  to  follow  eitlier, 
rendered  the  establishment  of  a  native  monarchy  (even  if 
there  had  been  no  other  obstacle)  wholly  impracticable.*' 
Another  says  :  The  chief  lords  of  both  English  and  Irisli 
descent  were  reduced  to  a  state  of  deplorable  misery  and 
exhaustion.  ...  It  w^as  high  time,  therefore,  on  the  one 
side  to  think  of  submission,  and  prudent  on  the  other  to 
propose  concession;  and  Henry  was  just  then  fortunate  in 
selecting  a  governor  for  Ireland  who  knew  how  to  take 
advantage  of  tlie  fa\'ourable  circumstances."  This  was 
Saintleger,  whose  politic  course  of  action  resulted  in  the 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


213 


assembling  at  Dublin,  12tli  June,  1541,  of  a  parliament 
at  which,  besides  all  the  principal  Anglo-Norman  lords, 
there  attended,  Donogh  O'Brien,  tanist  of  Thomond,  the 
O'Reilly,  O'More,  M'William,  Fitzpatrick,  and  Kavanagh.^ 
The  speeches  in  the  English  language  were  translated 
in  the  Gaelic  tongue  to  the  Irish  chiefs  by  the  Earl  of 
Ormond.  The  main  business  was  to  consider  a  bill  voting 
the  crown  of  Ireland  to  Henry,  which  was  unanimously 
passed  —  registered  rather;  for,  as  far  as  the  native  ''legis- 
lators" were  concerned,  the  assemblage  was  that  of  con- 
quered and  subdued  chieftains,  ready  to  acknowledge  their 
subjection  in  any  way.  O^Neill  and  O'Donnell  refused  to 
attend.  They  held  out  sullenly  yet  awhile  in  the  Nprth. 
But  in  the  next  year  they  ''  came  in,"  much  to  the  delight 
of  Henry,  who  loaded  them  with  flatteries  and  attentions. 
The  several  chiefs  yielded  up  their  ancient  Irish  titles,  and 
consented  to  receive  English  instead.  O'Brien  was  created 
Earl  of  Thomond ;  Ulick  M'William  was  created  Earl  of 
Clanrickard  and  Baron  Dunkellin ;  Hugh  O'Donnell  was 
made  Earl  of  Tyrconnell ;  O'Neill  was  made  Earl  of  Tyrone ; 
Kavanagh  was  made  Baron  of  Ballyann  ;  and  Fitzpatrick, 
•Baron  of  Ossory.  Most  of  these  titles  were  conferred  by 
Henry  in  person  at  Greenwich  palace,  with  extravagant 
pomp  and  formality,  the  Irish  chiefs  having  been  specially 
invited  thither  for  that  purpose,  and  sums  of  money  given 
them  for  their  equipment  and  expenses.  In  many  instances, 
if  not  in  all,  they  consented  to  receive  from  Henry  royal 
patents  or  title  deeds  for  "their"  lands,  as  the  English  from 
their  feudal  stand-point  would  regard  them  ;  not  ^Zt^^r  lands, 
however,  in  point  of  fact  and  law,  but  the  ''tribe-lands"  of 
their  septs.    The  acceptance  of  these  "patents"  of  land 


1  Son  of  M'Murrogli  who  liad  just  previously  submitted,"  reuouiiciug 
the  title  of  M'Murrogli,  adox)ting  the  name  of  Kavanagh,  and  undertaking 
on  the  part  of  his  sept,  that  no  one  henceforth  would  assume  the  renounced 
title  ! 


214 


THE  STORY  OF  lU ELAND. 


proprietorship,  still  more  than  the  acceptance  of  English 
titles,  was  "  a  complete  abrogation  of  the  Gaelic  relation  of 
clansman  and  chief."  Some  of  the  new  earls  were-  more- 
over apportioned  a  share  of  the  plundered  Church  lands. 
This  was  yet  a  further  outrage  on  their  people.  Little 
need  we  wonder,  therefore,  that  while  the  newly  created 
earls  and  barons  were  airing  their  modern  dignities  at  the 
English  court,  feted  and  flattered  by  Henry,  the  clans  at 
home,  learning  by  dark  rumour  of  these  treasons,  were 
already  stripping  the  backsliding  chiefs  of  all  authority 
and  power,  and  were  taking  measures  to  arrest  and  con- 
sign them  to  punishment  on  their  return !  O'Donnell 
found  most  of  *his  clan,  headed  by  his  son,  up  in  arms 
against  him ;  O'Brien,  on  his  return,  was  confronted  by 
like  circumstances  ;  the  new  "  Earl  of  Clanrickard  "  was 
incontinently  attainted  by  his  people,  and  a  Gaelic 
''M'William"  was  duly  installed  in  his  stead.  O'Neill, 
''the  first  of  his  race  who  had  accepted  an  English  title," 
found  that  his  clansmen  had  formally  deposed  him,  and 
elected  as  the  O'Neill,  his  son  John,  surnamed  ''  John  the 
Proud"  — the  celebrated  "  Shane"  O'Neill,  so  called  in  the 
jargon  of  English  writers.  On  all  sides  the  septs  repu-- 
diated  and  took  formal  and  practical  measures  to  disavow 
and  reverse  the  acts  of  their  representatives.  The  hope- 
lessness that  had  broken  the  spirit  of  the  chief  found  no 
place  in  the  heart  of  the  clan. 

This  was  the  beginning  of  new  complications  in  the 
already  tangled  skein  of  Irish  affairs.  A  new  source  of 
division  and  disorganization  was  now  planted  in  the  coun- 
try. Hitherto  the  clans  at  least  were  intact,  though  the 
nation  was  shattered.  Henceforth  the  clans  themselves 
were  split  into  fragments.  From  this  period  forward  we 
hear  of  a  king's  or  a  queen's  O'Reilly  and  an  Irish  O'Reilly  ; 
a  king's  O'Neill  and  an  Irish  O'Neill:  a  king's  O'Don- 
nell and  an  Irisli  O'Donnell.    The  English  government 


THE  ^TOUY  OF  IRELASlJ, 


215 


presented  a  very  artful  compromise  to  the  septs  —  offering 
them  a  chief  of  the  native  family  stock,  but  requiring  that 
he  should  hold  from  the  crown,  not  from  the  clan.  The 
nominee  of  the  government,  backed  by  all  the  -English 
power  and  interest,  was  generally  able  to  make  head  for  a 
time  at  least  against  the  legitimate  chief  duly  and  legally 
chosen  and  elected  by  the  sept.  In  many  instances  the 
English  nominee  was  able  to  rally  to  his  side  a  consider- 
able section  of  the  clan,  and  even  without  external  aid  to 
hold  the  chosen  chief  in  check.  By  the  internal  feuds 
thus  incited,  the  clans  were  utterly  riven,  and  were  given 
over  to  a  self-acting  process  of  extinction.  Occasionally, 
indeed,  the  crown  nominee,  once  he  was  firmly  seated  in 
the  chieftaincy,  threw  off  all  allegiance  to  his  foreign  mas- 
ters, declared  himself  an  Irish  chief,  cast  away  scornfully 
his  English  earlship,  aiid  assumed  proudly  the  ancient 
title  that  named  him  head  of  his  clan.  In  this  event  the 
government  simply  declared  him  "  deposed,"  proceeded  to 
nominate  another  chief  in  his  place,  and  sent  an  army  to 
instal  the  new  nominee  on  the  necks  of  the  stubborn  clan. 
This  was  the  artful  system  —  copied  in  all  its  craft  and 
cruelty  by  the  British  in  India  centuries  afterwards  —  pur- 
sued towards  the  native  princes  and  chiefs  of  Ireland  from 
the  reign  of  Henry  the  Eighth  to  the  middle  of  the  seven- 
teenth century. 


216 


TEE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

henry's  SUCCESSOKS  :  EDWAKD,  MARY,  AND  ELIZABETH. 
THE  CAREER  OF      JOHN  THE  PROUD.'' 

^^^^HE  changes  of  English  sovereigns  little  affected 
English  policy  in  Ireland.  Whatever  meaning 
the  cliange  from  Henry  to  Edward,  from  Edward 
to  Mary,  and  from  Mary  to  Elizabeth,  may  have 
had  in  England,  in  Ireland  it  mattered  little  who  filled  the 
throne ;  the  policy  of  subjugation,  plunder,  and  extirpa- 
tion went  on.  In  Mary's  reign,  indeed,  incidents  more 
than  one  occurred  to  show  that,  though  of  course  bent  on 
completing  the  conquest  and  annexation  of  Ireland,  she 
was  a  stranger  to  the  savage  and  cruel  passions  that  liad 
ruled  her  father,  and  that  were  so  fearfully  inherited  by 
his  other  daughter,  Elizabeth.  The  aged  chief  of  Offaly, 
O'Connor,  had  long  lain  in  the  dungeons  of  London  Tower, 
all  efforts  to  obtain  his  release  having  failed.  At  length 
his  daughter  Margaret,  hearing  that  now  a  queen  —  a 
woman  —  sat  on  the  throne,  bethought  her  of  an  appeal  in 
person  to  Mary  for  her  father's  life  and  freedom.  She  pro- 
ceeded to  London  and  succeeded  in  obtaining  an  audience 
of  the  queen.  She  pleaded  with,  all  a  woman's  eloquence, 
and  with  all  the  fervour  of  a  daughter  petitioning  for  a 
father's  life  !  Mary  was  touched  to  the  heart  by  this  in- 
stance of  devotedness.  She  treated  young  Margaret  of 
Offaly  with  the  greatest  tenderness,  spoke  to  her  cheer- 
ingly,  and  promised  lier  that  what  she  had  so  bravely 
sought  should  be  freely  granted.  And  it  was  so.  O'Connor 
Faly  returned  with  his  daugliter  to  Ireland  a  free  man. 

Nor  was  this  the  only  instance  in  which  Mary  exhibited 
a  womanly  sympathy  for  unsT  rtune..    The  fate  of  the 


THE  sronr  of  irelanu. 


217 


Geraldines  moved  her  to  eompassioii.    The  young  Gerakl 

—  long  time  a  fugitive  among  the  glens  of  Muskery  and 
Donegal,  now  an  exile  sheltered  in  Rome  — was  recalled 
and  restored  to  all  his  estates,  honours,  and  titles ;  and 
with  O'Connor  Faly  and  the  young  Geraldine  there  were 
allowed  to  return  to  their  homes,  we  are  told,  the  heirs  of 
the  houses  of  Ormond  and  Upper  Ossory,  "to  the  great 
delight  of  the  southern  half  of  the  kingdom." 

To  Mary  there  succeeded  on  the  English  throne  her 
Amazonian  sister,  Elizabeth.  The  nobles  and  commoners 
of  England  had,  indeed,  as  in  Mary's  case,  at  her  father's 
request,  declared  and  decreed  as  the  immortal  and  un- 
changeable truth  that  she  was  illegitimate ;  but,  according 
to  their  code  of  morality,  that  was  no  earthly  reason  against 
their  now  declaring  and  decreeing  as  the  immortal  and 
unchangeable  truth  that  she  was  legitimate.  For  these 
very  noble  nobles  and  most  uncommon  commoners  eat  dirt 
with  a  hearty  zest,  and  were  ready  to  decree  and  declare, 
to  swear  and  unswear,  the  most  contradictory  and  irrecon- 
cilable assertions,  according  as  their  venality  and  servility 
suggested. 

Elizabeth  was  a  woman  of  marvellous  ability.  She  pos- 
sessed abundantly  the  talents  that  qualify  a  statesman. 
She  was  greatly  gifted  indeed ;  but  nature,  while  richly 
endowing  her  with  so  much  else  besides,  forgot  or  with- 
held from  her  one  of  the  commonest  gifts  of  human  kind 

—  Elizabeth  had  no  heart.  A  woman  devoid  of  heart  is, 
after  all,  a  terrible  freak  of  nature.  She  may  be  gifted 
with  marvellous  powers  of  intellect,  and  endowed  with 
great  personal  beauty,  but  she  is  still  a  monster.  Such 
was  Elizabeth ;  a  true  Tudor  and  veritable  daughter  of 
King  Henry  the  Eighth ;  one  of  the  most  remarkable 
women  of  her  age,  and  in  one  sense  one  of  the  greatest  of 
English  sovereigns. 

Her  reign  was  memorable  in  Irish  history.    It  witnessed 


218 


THE  i^TORY  OF  IRELAND. 


at  its  opening  the  revolt  of  John  the  Proud  in  Ulster ; 
later  on  the  Desmond  rebellion ;  and  towards  the  close  the 
great  struggle  that  to  all  time  will  immortalize  the  name 
of  Hugh  O'Neill. 

John  the  Proud,  as  I  have  already  mentioned,  was  elected 
to  the  chieftaincy  of  the  O'Neills  on  the  deposition  of  his 
father  by  the  clan.  He  scornfully  defied  all  the  efforts  of 
the  English  to  dispute  his  claim,  and  soon  they  were  fain 
to  recognize  him  and  court  his  friendship.  Of  this  ex- 
traordinary man  little  more  can  be  said  in  praise  than  that 
he  was  an  indomitable  and,  up  to  the  great  reverse  which 
suddenly  closed  his  career,  a  successful  soldier,  who  was 
able  to  defy  and  defeat  the  best  armies  of  England  on  Irish 
soil,  and  more  than  once  to  bring  the  English  government 
very  submissively  to  terms  of  his  dictation.  But  he  lacked 
the  personal  virtues  that  adorned  the  lives  and  inspired  the 
efforts  of  the  great  and  brave  men  whose  struggles  we  love 
to  trace  in  the  annals  of  Ireland.  His  was,  indeed,  a  splen- 
did military  career,  and  his  administration  of  the  govern- 
ment  of  his  territory  was  undoubtedly  exemplary  in  many 
respects,  but  he  was  in  private  life  no  better  than  a  mere 
English  noble  of  the  time ;  liis  conduct  towards  the  unfor- 
tunate Calvach  O'Donnell  leaving  a  lasting  stain  on  his 
name.i  The  state  papers  of  England  reveal  an  incident  in 
his  life,  which  presents  us  with  an  authenticated  illustra- 
tion of  the  means  deemed  lawful  by  the  English  govern- 


1  He  invaded  the  O'Donnell's  territory,  and  acting,  it  is  said,  on  infor- 
mation secretly  supplied  by  the  unfaithful  wife  of  the  Tyrconnell  chief, 
succeeded  in  surprising  and  capturing  him.  He  kept  O'Donnell,  who  was 
his  father-in-law,  for  years  a  close  prisoner,  and  lived  in  open  adultery  with 
the  perfidious  wife  of  the  imprisoned  chief,  the  step-mother  of  his  own  law- 
ful wife  !  What  deepens  the  horror  of  this  odious  domestic  tragedy," 
says  M'Gee,  "is  the  fact,  that  the  wife  of  O'Neill,  the  daughter  of  O'Don- 
nell, thus  supplanted  by  her  shameless  step-mother  under  her  own  roof, 
died  soon  afterwards  of  '  horror  loathing  grief  and  deep  anguish '  at  the 
spectacle  afforded  by  the  private  life  of  O'Neill,  and  the  severities  infiictpd 
on  her  wretched  father  I 


rilE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


219 


nient  often  enough  in  those  centuries  for  the  removing  of 
an  Irish  foe.  John  had  reduced  all  the  north  to  his  sway, 
and  cleared  out  every  vestige  of  English  dominion  in 
Ulster.  He  had  encountered  the  English  commander-in- 
chief  and  defeated  him.  He  had  marched  to  the  very  con- 
fines of  Dublin,  spreading  terror  through  the  Pale.  In 
this  strait  Sussex,  the  lord  lieutenant,  bethought  him  of 
a  good  plan  for  the  effectual  removal  of  this  dangerous 
enemy  to  the  crown  and  government.  With  the  full  cog- 
nizance and  sanction  of  the  queen,  he  hired  an  assassin  to 
murder  O'Neill.  The  plot,  however,  miscarried,  and  we 
should  probably  have  never  heard  of  it,  but  that,  very 
awkwardly  for  the  memory  of  Elizabeth  and  of  her  worthy . 
viceroy,  some  portions  of  their  correspondence  on  the  sub- 
ject remained  undestroyed  amongst  the  state  papers,  and 
are  now  to  be  seen  in  the  State  Paper  Office  !  The  career 
of  John  the  Proud  closed  suddenly  and  miserably.  He 
was  utterly  defeated  (a.d.  1567)  in  a  great  pitched  battle 
by  the  O'Donnells ;  an  overthrow  which  it  is  said  affected 
his  reason.  Flying  from  the  field  with  his  guilty  mistress, 
his  secretary,  and  a  bodyguard  of  fifty  horsemen,  he  was 
induced  to  become  the  guest  of  some  Scottish  adventurers 
in  Antrim,  upon  whom  he  had  inflicted  a  severe  defeat  not 
long  previously.  After  dinner,  when  most  of  those  present 
were  under  the  influence  of  wine  —  John  it  is  said,  having 
been  purposely  plied  with  drink  —  an  Englishman  who  was 
present,  designedly  got  up  a  brawl,  or  pretence  of  a  brawl, 
about  O'Neill's  recent  defeat  of  his  then  guests.  Daggers 
were  drawn  in  an  instant,  and  the  unfortunate  John  the 
Proud,  while  sitting  helplessly  at  the  banqueting  board, 
was  surrounded  and  butchered ! 


220 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELANI). 


(CHAPTER  XXXVI. 


HOW  THE  gi:raldinp:s  once  moke  leagued  against 

ENGLAND  UNDER  THE  BANNER  OF  THE  CROSS.  HOW 
"THE  ROYAL  POPE  "  WAS  THE  EARLIEST 'AND  THE 
MOST  ACTIVE  ALLY  OF  THE  IRISH  CAUSE. 

^^^^^^HE  death  of  John  the  Proud  gave  the  English 


Once  more  the  Geraldines  were  to  put  it  severely  to  the 
proof. 

Elizabeth  had  not  witnessed  and  studied  in  vain  the 
events  of  her  father's  reign.  She  very  sagaciously  con- 
cluded, that  if  she  would  safely  push  her  war  against  the 
Catholic  faith  in  Ireland,  she  must  first  get  the  dreaded 
Geraldines  out  of  the  way.  And  she  knew,  too,  from  all 
previous  events,  how  necessary  it  was  to  guard  that  not 
even  a  solitary  seedling  of  that  dangerous  race  was  allowed 
to  escape.  She  wrote  to  Sydney,  her  lord  lieutenant^  to 
lay  a  right  cunning  snare  for  the  catching  of  the  Ger- 
aldines in  one  haul.  That  faithful  viceroy  of  a  gracious 
queen  forthwith  issued  an  invitation  for  the  nobility  of 
Ireland  to  meet  him  on  a  given  day  in  the  city  of  Dublin,  to 
confer  with  him  on  some  matters  of  great  weight,  particu- 
larly regarding  religion."  The  bait  took.  "  The  dynasts 
of  Ireland,  little  suspecting  the  design,  hastened  to  the 
city,  and  along  with  them  the  Earl  of  Desmond  and  his 
brother  John."  They  had  a  safe  conduct  from  Sydney, 
but  had  scarcely  arrived  when  they  were  seized  and  com- 
mitted to  the  Castle  dungeons,  whence  they  were  soon 
shipped  off  to  the  Tower  of  London.    This  was  the  plan 


TIIE  STonr  OF  IE  EL  AND. 


221 


Elizabeth  had  hiid,  but  it  had  onlj^  partially  succeeded. 
All  the  Geraldines  had  not  come  into  the  snare,  and  she 
took  five  years  to  decide  whether  it  would  be  worth  while 
murdering  these  (according  to  law),  while  so  many  other 
members  of  the  family  were  yet  outside  her  grasp.  The 
earl  and  his  brother  appear  not  to  have  been  imprisoned, 
but  merely  held  to  residence  under  surveillance  in  Lon- 
don. According  to  the  version  of  the  family  chronicler, 
they  found  means  of  transmitting  a  document  or  message 
to  their  kinsmen  and  retainers,  appointing  their  cousin 
James,  son  of  Maurice  —  known  as  James  Fitzmaurice  — 
to  be  the  head  and  leader  of  the  family  in  their  absence, 
^'  for  he  was  well-known  for  his  attachment  to  the  ancient 
faith,  no  less  than  for  his  valour  and  chivalry."  Gladh^," 
says  the  old  chronicler,  did  the  people  of  Earl  Desmond 
receive  these  commands,  and  inviolable  was  their  attacli- 
ment  to  him  who  was  now  their  appointed  chieftain." 

This  was  that  James  Fitzmaurice  of  Desmond  —  "  James 
Geraldine  of  happy  memory,"  as  Pope  Gregory  calls  him 
—  who  originated,  planned,  and  organized  the  memorable 
Geraldine  League  of  1579,  upon  the  fortunes  of  which  for 
years  the  attention  of  Christendom  was  fixed.  With 
loftier,  nobler,  holier  aims  than  the  righting  of  mere  family 
wrongs  he  conceived  the  idea  of  a  great  league  in  defence 
of  religion  ;  a  holy  war,  in  which  he  might  demand  the 
sustainment  and  intervention  of  the  Catholic  powers. 
Elizabeth's  own  conduct  at  tliis  juncture  in  stirring  up 
and  subsidising  the  Huguenots  in  France  supplied  Fitzmau- 
rice with  another  argument  in  favour  of  his  scheme.  First 
of  all  he  sent  an  envoy  to  the  Pope  —  Gregory  the  Tliir- 
teenth  —  demanding  the  blessing  and  assistance  of  the 
Supreme  Pontiff  in  this  struggle  of  a  Catholic  nation 
against  a  monarch  nakedly  violating  all  title  to  allegiance. 
The  act  of  an  apostate  sovereign  of  a  Catliolic  country 
drawing  the  sword  to  compel  his  subjects  into  apostasy  on 


THE  STOnr  OF  inKLANB. 


pain  of  death,  was  not  only  a  forfeiture  of  his  title  to  rule, 
it  placed  him  outside  the  pale  of  law,  civil  and  ecclesias- 
tical. This  was  Henry's  position  when  he  died ;  to  this 
position,  as  the  envoy  pointed  out,  Elizabeth  succeeded 
''with  a  vengeance ;  "  and  so  he  prayed  of  Pope  Gregory, 
''  his  blessing  on  the  undertaking  and  the  concession  of 
indulgences  which  the  Church  bestows  on  those  who  die 
in  defence  of  the  faith."  The  Holy  Father  flung  himself 
earnestly  and  actively  into  the  cause.  ''  Then,"  says  the 
old  Geraldine  chaplain,  "  forth  flashed  the  sword  of  the 
Geraldine ;  like  chaff  did  he  scatter  the  host  of  reformers ; 
fire  and  devastation  did  he  carry  into  their  strongholds,  so 
that  during  five  years  he  won  many  a  glorious  victory,  and 
carried  off  innumerable  trophies." 

This  burst  of  rhapsody,  excusable  enough  on  the  part  of 
the  old  Geraldine  chronicler,  gives,  however,  no  faithful 
idea  of  what  ensued ;  many  brilliant  victories,  it  is  true, 
James  Geraldine  achieved  in  his  protracted  struggle.  But 
after  five  years  of  valiant  effort  and  of  varied  fortunes,  the 
hour  of  reverses  came.  One  by  one  Fitzmaurice's  allies 
were  struck  down  or  fell  away  from  him,  until  at  lengtli 
he  himself  with  a  small  force  stood  to  bay  in  the  historic 
Glen  of  Alierlow,  which  ''  had  now  become  to  the  patriots 
of  the  south  what  the  valley  of  Glenmalure  had  been  for 
those  of  Leinster  —  a  fortress  dedicated  by  nature  to  the 
defence  of  freedom."  Here  he  held  out  for  a  year ;  but, 
eventually,  he  dispatched  envoys  to  the  lord  president  at 
Kilmallock  to  make  terms  of  submission,  which  were  dul}' 
granted.  Whether  from  motives  of  policy,  or  in  compli- 
ance with  these  stipulations,  the  imprisoned  earl  and  his 
brother  were  forthwith  released  in  London ;  the  queen 
making  them  an  exceedingly  smooth  and  bland  speech 
against  the  sin  of  rebellion.  The  gallant  Fitzmaurice 
betook  himself  into  exile,  there  to  plot  and  organize  with 
redoubled  energy  in  the  cause  of  Faith  and  Country; 


TUE  STOnr  OF  inELANB,  228 

while  the  earl  of  Desmond,  utterly  disheartened  no  doubt 
by  the  result  of  James's  revolt,  and  "  only  too  happy  to 
be  tolerated  in  the  possession  of  his  570,000  acres,  was 
eager  enough  to  testify  his  allegiance  by  any  sort  of  ser- 
vice." 

Fitzmaurice  did  not  labour  in  vain.  He  went  from 
court  to  court  pleading  the  cause. he  had  so  deeply  at  heart. 
He  was  received  with  honour  and  respect  everywhere ; 
but  it  was  only  at  Rome  that  he  obtained  that  which  he 
valued  beyond  personal  honours  for  himself — aid  in  men, 
money,  and  arms  for  the  struggle  in  Ireland.  A  powerful 
expedition  was  fitted  out  at  Civita  Vecchia  by  the  sover- 
eign pontiff;  and  from  various  princes  of  Europe  secret 
promises  of  further  aid  were  showered  upon  the  brave 
Geraldine.  He  little  knew,  all  this  time,  while  he  in  exile 
was  toiling  night  and  daj^ —  was  pleading,  urging,  beseech- 
ing—  planning,  organizing,  and  directing  —  full  of  ardour 
and  of  faithful  courageous  resolve,  that  his  countrymen 
at  home  —  even  his  own  kinsmen  —  were  temporising  and 
compromising  with  the  lord  president!  He  little  knew 
that,  instead  of  finding  Ireland  ready  to  welcome  him  as  a 
deliverer,  he  was  to  land  in  the  midst  of  a  prostrate,  dis- 
pirited, and  apathetic  population,  and  was  to  find  some  of 
his  own  relatives,  not  only  fearing  to  countenance,  but 
cravenly  arrayed  against  him  !  It  was  even  so.  As  the 
youthful  Emmett  exclaimed  of  his  own  project  against  the 
British  crown  more  than  two  hundred  years  subsequently, 
we  may  say  of  Fitzmaunce's  — "  There  was  failure  in 
every  part."  By  some  wild  fatality  everything  miscar- 
ried. There  was  concert  nowhere ;  there  was  no  one  en- 
gaged in  the  cause  of  ability  to  second  James's  efforts ; 
and  what  misfortune  marred,  incompetency  ruined.  The 
Pope's  expedition,  upon  which  so  much  depended,  was 
diverted  from  its  destination  by  its  incompetent  com- 
mander, an  English  adventurer  named  Stiikely,  knave  or 


THE  STOnr  OF  lBt:LANl), 


fool,  to  whom,  ill  an  evil  hour,  James  had  unfortunately 
confided  such  a  trust.  Stukely,  having  arrived  at  Lisbon 
on  his  way  to  Ireland,  and  having  there  learned  that  the 
king  of  Portugal  was  setting  out  on  an  expedition  against 
the  Moors,  absolutely  joined  his  forces  to  those  of  Dom 
Sebastian,  and  accompanied  him,^  leaving  James  of  Des- 
mond to  learn  as  best  he  might  of  this  inexplicable  imbe- 
cility, if  not  cold-blooded  treason  I 

Meanwhile,  in  Ireland,  the  air  was  thick  with  rumours, 
vague  and  furtive,  that  James  was  "  on  the  sea,"  and  soon 
to  land  with  a  liberating  expedition.  The  government 
was,  of  course,  on  the  alert,  fastening  its  gaze  with  lynx- 
eyed  vigilance  on  all  men  likely  to  join  the  "  foreign  emis- 
saries," as  the  returning  Irish  and  their  friends  were 
styled ;  and  around  the  south-western  coast  of  Ireland  was 
instantly  drawn  a  line  of  British  cruisers.  The  govern- 
ment fain  would  have  seized  upon  the  earl  of  Desmond 
and  his  brothers,  but  it  was  not  certain  whether  this  would 
aid  or  retard  the  apprehended  revolt;  for,  so  far,  these 
Geraldines  protested  their  opposition  to  it,  and  to  them  — 
to  the  earl  in  particular — the  population  of  the  south 
looked  for  leadership.  Yet,  in  sooth,  the  English  might 
have  believed  the  earl,  who,  hoping  nothing  of  the  revolt, 
yet  sympathising  secretly  with  his  kinsman,  was  in  a  sad 
plight  what  to  do,  anxious  to  be  "  neutral,"  and  trying  to 
convince  the  lord  president  that  he  was  well  affected.  The 
government  party,  on  the  other  hand,  trusting  him  nought, 
seemed  anxious  to  goad  him  'into  some  overt  act "  that 
would  put  him  utterly  in  their  power.  While  all  was 
excitement  about  the  expected  expedition,  lo  I  three  sus- 
picious strangers  were  landed  at  Dingle  from  a  Spanish 
ship!  Tliey  were  seized  as  "foreign  emissaries,"  and 
were  brought  first  before  the  earl  of  Desmond.    Glad  of 


1  Stukely,  and  most  of  liis  force,  perished  on  the  bloody  field  of  Aloazar- 
quebir,  ^vhL^e  Dom  Sebastian  ami  two  Moorish  kings  likewise  fell. 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


226 


an  opportunity  for  showing  the  government  his  zeal,  he 
forthwith  sent  them  prisoners  to  the  lord  president  at  Kil- 
mallock.  In  vain  they  protested  that  they  were  not  con- 
spirators or  invaders.  And  indeed  they  were  not,  though 
they  were  what  was  just  as  bad  in  the  eyes  of  the  law, 
namely.  Catholic  ecclesiastics,  one  of  them  being  Dr. 
O'Haly,  bishop  of  Mayo,  and  another  Father  Cornelius 
O'Rorke.  To  reveal  what  they  really  were  would  serve 
them  little ;  inasmuch  as  hanging  and  beheading  as 
"rebels"  was  in  no  way  different  from  hanging  and  be- 
heading as  "  Popish  ecclesiastics."  Yet  would  the  authori- 
ties insist  that  they  were  vile  foreign  emissaries.  They 
spoke  with  a  Spanish  accent ;  they  wore  their  beards  in 
the  Spanish  fashion,  and  their  boots  were  of  Spanish  cut. 
So  to  force  a  confession  of  what  was  not  truth  out  of  them, 
no  effort  was  spared.  They  were  "  put  to  every  conceiv- 
able torture,"  says  the  historian,  "  in  order  to  extract  in- 
telligence of  Fitzmaurice's  movements.  After  their  thighs 
had  been  broken  with  hammers  they  were  hanged  on  a 
tree,  and  their  bodies  used  as  targets  by  the  soldiery. 

By  this  time  James,  all  unconscious  of  Stukely's  defec- 
tion, had  embarked  from  Spain  for  Ireland,  with  a  few 
score  Spanish  soldiers  in  three  small  ships.  He  brought 
with  him  Dr.  Saunders,  Papal  legate,  the  bishop  of  Killa- 
loe,  and  Dr.  Allen.  The  little  fleet,  after  surviving  ship- 
wreck on  the  coast  of  Gallicia,  sailed  into  Dingle  Harbour 
17th  July,  1579.  Here  James  first  tasted  disheartening 
disillusion.  His  great  kinsman  the  earl,  so  far  from  march- 
ing to  welcome  him  and  summoning  the  country  to  rise, 
"  sent  him  neither  sign  of  friendship  nor  promise  of  coope- 
ration." This  was  discouragement  indeed ;  yet  Fitzmaur- 
ice  was  not  without  hope  that  when  in  a  few  days  the  main 
expedition  under  Stukely  would  arrive,  the  earl  might 
think  more  hopefully  of  the  enterprise,  and  rally  to  it  that 
power  which  he  alone  could  assemble  in  Munster.  So, 


226 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


weighing  anchor,  James  steered  for  a  spot  which  no  doubt 
he  had  long  previously  noted  and  marked  as  preeminently 
suited  by  nature  for  such  a  purpose  as  this  of  his  just  now 
—  Illan-an-Oir,  or  Golden  Island,  in  Smerwick  Harbour, 
on  the  north-west  Kerry  coast,  destined  to  be  famed  in 
story  as  Fort  del  Ore.  This  was  a  singular  rock,  a  dimin- 
utive Gibraltar,  jutting  into  the  harbour  or  bay  of  Smer- 
wick. Even  previously  its  natural  strength  as  a  site  for  a 
fort  had  been  noticed,  and  a  rude  fortification  of  some  sort 
crowned  the  rock.  Here  James  landed  his  small  force, 
threw  up  an  earthwork  across  the  narrow  neck  of  land 
connecting  the  ''Isle  of  Gold"  with  the  mainland,  and 
waited  for  news  of  Stukely. 

But  Stukely  never  came !  There  did  come,  however, 
unfortunately  for  James,  an  English  man-of-war,  which  had 
little  difficulty  in  capturing  his  transports  within  sight  of 
the  helpless  fort.  All  hope  of  the  expected  expedition 
soon  fled,  or  mayhap  its  fate  became  known,  and  matters 
grew  desperate  on  Illan-an-Oir.  Still  the  earl  made  no 
sign.  His  brothers  John  and  James,  however,  less  timid 
or  more  true  to  kinship,  had  chivalrously  hastened  to  join 
Fitzmaurice.  But  it  was  clear  the  enterprise  was  lost.  The 
government  forces  were  mustering  throughout  Munster, 
and  nowhere  was  help  being  organized.  In  this  strait  it 
was  decided  to  quit  the  fort  and  endeavour  to  reach  the 
old  fastnesses  amidst  the  Galtees.  The  little  band  in  their 
eastward  march  were  actually  pursued  by  the  earl  of  Des- 
mond, not  very  much  in  earnest  indeed  —  in  downright 
sham,  the  English  said,  yet  in  truth  severely  enough  to 
compel  them  to  divide  into  three  fugitive  groups,  the  papal 
legate  and  the  other  dignitaries  remaining  with  Fitzmaur- 
ice. Making  a  desperate  push  to  reach  the  Shannon,  his 
horses  utterly  exhausted,  the  brave  Geraldine  was  obliged 
to  impress  into  his  service  some  horses  belonging  to  Sir 
William  Burke,  through  whose  lands  he  was  then  passing. 


THE  STOBY  OF  IBELANB. 


227 


Burke,  indeed,  was  a  relative  of  his,  and  Fitzmaurice 
thought  that  revealing  his  name  would  silence  all  objec- 
tion. On  the  contrary,  however,  this  miserable  Burke 
assembled  a  force,  pursued  the  fugitives,  and  fell  upon 
them,  as  "few  and  faint,"  jaded  and  outworn,  they  had 
halted  at  the  little  river  iMulkern  in  Limerick  county. 
Fitzmaurice  was  wounded  mortally  early  in  the  fray,  yet 
his  ancient  prowess  flashed  out  with  all  its  native  brilliancy 
at  the  last.  Dashing  into  the  midst  of  his  dastard  foes, 
at  one  blow  he  clove  to  earth  Theobald  Burke,  and  in 
another  instant  laid  the  brother  of  Theobald  mortally 
wounded  at  his  feet.  The  assailants,  though  ten  to  one, 
at  once  turned  and  fled.  But  alas!  vain  was  the  victory 
—  James  Geraldine  had  received  his  death  wound  I  Calm- 
ly receiving  the  last  rites  of  the  Church  at  the  hands  of 
Dr.  Allen,  and  having  with  his  last  breath  dictated  a  mes- 
sage to  his  kinsmen  enjoining  them  to  take  up  the  banner 
fallen  in  his  hand,  and  to  fight  to  the  last  in  the  holy  war 

naming  his  cousin  John  of  Desmond  as  leader  to  suc- 
ceed him  —  the  chivalrous  Fitzmaurice  breathed  his  last 
sigh.  "  Such,"  says  the  historian,  "  was  the  fate  of  the 
glorious  hopes  of  Sir  James  Fitzmaurice  !  So  ended  in  a 
squabble  with  churls  about  cattle,  on  the  banks  of  an  in- 
significant stream,  a  career  which  had  drawn  the  attention 
of  Europe,  and  had  inspired  with  apprehension  the  lion- 
hearted  English  queen !  " 

Faithful  to  the  dying  message  of  Fitzmaurice,  John  of 
Desmond  now  avowed  his  resolution  to  continue  the 
struggle  ;  which  he  did  bravely,  and  not  Avithout  brilliant 
results.  But  the  earl  still  "stood  on  the  fence."  Still 
would  he  fain  persuade  the  government  that  he  was  quite 
averse  to  the  mad  designs  of  his  unfortunate  kinsmen ; 
and  still  government,  fully  believing  him  a  sympathiser 
with  the  movement,  lost  no  opportunity  of  scornfully 
taunting  him  with  insinuations.     Eventually  they  com- 


228 


THE  STORY  OF  IBELAND, 


nienced  to  treat  his  lands  as  the  possessions  of  an  enemy, 
wasting  and  harrying  them  ;  and  at  length  the  earl,  finding 
too  late  that  in  such  a  struggle  there  was  for  him  no  neu- 
trality, took  the  field.  But  this  step  on  his  part,  which  if 
it  had  been  taken  earlier,  might  have  had  a  powerful  effect, 
was  now,  as  I  have  said,  all  too  late  for  any  substantial 
influence  upon  the  lost  cause.  Yet  he  showed  by  a  few 
brilliant  victories  at  the  very  outset  that  he  was,  in  a 
military  sense,  not  all  unworthy  of  his  position  as  First 
Geraldine.  The  Spanish  king,  too,  had  by  this  time  been 
moved  to  the  aid  of  the  struggle.  The  Fort  del  Ore  once 
more  received  an  expedition  from  Spain,  where  this  time 
there  landed  a  force  of  700  Spaniards  and  Italians,  under 
the  command  of  Sebastian  San  Josef,  Hercules  Pisano, 
and  the  Duke  of  Biscay.  They  brought  moreover  arms 
for  6,000  men,  a  large  supply  of  money,  and  cheering 
promises  of  still  further  aid  from  over  the  sea.  Lord  Grey, 
the  deputy,  quickly  saw  that  probably  the  future  existence 
of  British  power  in  Ireland  depended  upon  the  swift  and 
sudden  crushing  of  this  formidable  expedition ;  accordingly 
with  all  vehemence  did  he  strain  every  energy  to  concen- 
trate with  rapidity  around  Fort  del  Ore,  by  land  and  sea, 
an  overwhelming  force  before  any  aid  or  cooperation  could 
reach  it  from  the  Geraldines.  "  Among  the  officers  of  the 
besieging  force  were  three  especially  notable  men  —  Sir 
Walter  Raleigh,  the  poet  Spenser,  and  Hugh  O'Neill  — 
afterwards  Earl  of  Tyrone,  but  at  this  time  commanding 
a  squadron  of  cavalry  for  her  majesty  Queen  Elizabeth. 
San  Josef  surrendered  the  place  on  conditions ;  that  savage 
outrage  ensued,  which  is  known  in  Irish  history  as  '  the 
massacre  of  Smerwick.'  Raleigh  and  Wingfield  appear  to 
have  directed  the  operations  by  which  800  prisoners  of  war 
were  cruelly  butchered  and  flung  over  the  rocks.  The  sea 
upon  that  coast  is  deep,  and  the  tide  swift ;  but  it  has  not  ^ 
proved  deep  enough  to  hide  that  horrid  crime,  or  to  wash 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


229 


the  stains  of  such  wanton  bloodshed  from  the  memory  of 
its  authors  !  "  ^ 

It  may  be  said  that  the  Geraldine  cause  never  rallied 
after  this  disaster.  For  four  years  longer,"  says  the  his- 
torian whom  I  have  just  quoted,  "  the  Geraldine  League 
flickered  in  the  south.  Proclamations  offering  pardon  to 
all  concerned,  except  earl  Gerald  and  a  few  of  his  most 
devoted  adherents,  had  their  effect.  Deserted  at  home, 
and  cut  off  from  foreign  assistance,  the  condition  of  Des- 
mond grew  more  and  more  intolerable.  On  one  occasion 
he  narrowly  escaped  capture  by  rushing  with  his  countess 
into  a  river,  and  remaining  concealed  up  to  the  chin  in 
water.  His  dangers  can  hardly  be  paralleled  by  those  of 
Bruce  after  the  battle  of  Falkirk,  or  by  the  more  familiar 
adventures  of  Charles  Edward.  At  length  on  the  night 
of  the  11th  November,  1584,  he  was  surprised  with  only 
two  followers  in  a  lonesome  valley,  about  five  miles  distant 
from  Tralee,  among  the  mountains  of  Kerry.  The  spot 
is  still  remembered,  and  the  name  of  '  the  Earl's  Road ' 
transports  the  fancy  of  the  traveller  to  that  tragical  scene. 
Cowering  over  the  embers  of  a  half-extinct  fire  in  a  mis- 
erable hovel,  the  lord  of  a  country  which  in  time  of  peace 
had  yielded  an  annual  rental  of  '40,000  golden  pieces,' 
was  dispatched  by  the  hands  of  common  soldiers,  without 
pity,  or  time,  or  hesitation.  A  few  followers  watching 
their  creaghts  or  herds,  farther  up  the  valley,  found  his 
bleeding  trunk  flung  out  upon  the  highway  ;  the  head  was 
transported  over  seas  to  rot  upon  the  spikes  of  London 
Tower." 

Such  was  the  end  of  the  great  Geraldine  League  of 
1579.  Even  the  youngest  of  my  readers  must  have  noticed 
in  its  plan  and  constitution,  one  singular  omission  which 
proved  a  fatal  defect.   It  did  not  raise  the  issue  of  national 


1  M'Gee, 


230 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


independence  at  all.  It  made  no  appeal  to  the  national 
aspirations  for  liberty.  It  was  simply  a  war  to  compel 
Elizabeth  to  desist  from  her  bloody  persecution  of  the 
Catholic  faith.  Furthermore  it  left  out  of  calculation 
altogether  the  purely  Irish  elements.  It  left  all  the  north- 
ern half  of  the  kingdom  out  of  sight.  It  was  only  a 
southern  movement.  The  Irish  princes  and  chiefs  —  those 
of  them  most  opposed  to  the  English  power  —  never  viewed 
the  enterprise  with  confidence  or  sympathy.  Fitzmaurice 
devoted  much  more  attention  to  foreign  aid  than  to  native 
combination.  In  truth  his  movement  was  simply  an  An- 
glo-Irish war  to  obtain  freedom  of  conscience,  and  never 
raised  issues  calculated  to  call  forth  the  united  efforts  of 
the  Irish  nation  in  a  war  against  England. 

Before  passing  to  the  next  great  event  of  this  era,  I  may 
pause  to  note  here  a  few  occurrences  worthy  of  record, 
but  for  which  I  did  not  deem  it  advisable  to  break  in  upon 
the  consecutive  narration  of  the  Geraldine  war.  My  en- 
deavour throughout  is  to  present  to  my  young  readers  in 
clear  and  distinct  outline,  a  sketch  of  the  chief  event  of 
each  period  more  or  less  complete  by  itself,  so  that  it  may 
be  easily  comprehended  and  remembered.  To  this  end  I 
omit  many  minor  incidents  and  occurrences,  which  if  en- 
grafted or  brought  in  upon  the  main  narrative,  might  have 
a  tendency  to  confuse  and  bewilder  the  facts  in  one's 
recollection. 


TRE  STORY  OF  IB  EL  AND. 


231 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

HOW  COMMANDER  COSBY  HELD  A  FEAST "  AT  MUL- 
LAGHMAST;  AND  HOW  RUARI  OGE "  RECOMPENSED 
THAT  "HOSPITALITY."  A  VICEROY'S  VISIT  TO  GLEN- 
MALURE,  AND  HIS  RECEPTION  THERE. 

T  was  witliin  the  period  whicli  we  have  just  passed' 
over,  that  the  ever-memorable  massacre  of  Mul- 
laghmast  occurred.  It  is  not,  unhappily,  the  only 
tragedy  of  the  kind  to  be  met  with  in  our  blood- 
stained annals ;  5'et  it  is  of.  all  the  most  vividly  perpetu- 
ated in  popular  traditions.  In  1577,  Sir  Francis  Cosby, 
commanding  the  queen's  troops  in  Leix  and  Offaly,  formed 
a  diabolical  plot  for  the  permanent  conquest  of  that  dis- 
trict. Peace  at  the  moment  prevailed  between  the  gov- 
ernment and  the  inhabitants ;  but  Cosby  seemed  to  think 
that  in  extirpation  la}^  the  only  effectual  security  for  the 
crown.  Feigning,  however,  great  friendship,  albeit  suspi- 
cious of  some  few  evil  disposed  "  persons,  said  not  to  be 
well  affected,  he  invited  to  a  grand  feast  all  the  chief 
families  of  the  territory ;  attendance  thereat  being  a  sort 
of  test  of  amity.  To  this  summons  responded  the  flower 
of  the  Irish .  nobility  in  Leix  and  Offaly,  with  their  kins- 
men and  friends  —  the  O'Mores,  O'Kellys,  Lalors,  O'No- 
lans,  etc.  The  ''banquet"  —  alas!  —  was  prepared  by 
Cosby  in  the  great  Rath  or  Fort  of  MuUach-Maisten,  or 
Mullaghmast,  in  Kildare  county.  Into  the  great  rath  rode 
many  a  pleasant  cavalcade  that  day ;  but  none  ever  came 
forth  that  entered  in.  A  gentleman  named  Lalor  who  had 
halted  a  little  way  off,  had  his  suspicions  in  some  way 
aroused.  He  noticed,  it  is  said,  that  while  many  went  into 
the  rath,  none  were  seen  to  reappear  outside.  Accord- 


232 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


ingly  he  desired  his  friends  to  remain  behind  while  he 
advanced  and  reconnoitred.  He  entered  cautiously.  In- 
side, what  a  horrid  spectacle  met  his  sight !  At  the  very 
entrance  the  dead  bodies  of  some  of  his  slaughtered  kins- 
men !  In  an  instant  he  himself  was  set  upon  ;  but  drawing 
his  sword,  he  hewed  his  way  out  of  the  fort  and  back  to 
his  friends,  and  they  barely  escaped  with  their  lives  to 
Dysart!  He  was  the  only  Irishman,  out  of  more  than 
four  hundred  who  entered  the  fort  that  day,  that  escaped 
with  life  !  The  invited  guests  were  butchered  to  a  man ; 
one  hundred  and  eighty  of  the  O'Mores  alone  having  thus 
perished. 

The  peasantry  long  earnestly  believed  and  asserted  that 
on  the  encircled  rath  of  slaughter  rain  nor  dew  never  fell, 
and  that  the  ghosts  of  the  slain  might  be  seen,  and  their 
groans  distinctly  heard  "  on  the  solemn  midnight  blast " !  — 

"  O'er  the  Eath  of  MuUaghmast, 
On  the  solemn  midnight  blast, 
What  bleeding  spectres  passed 

With  their  gashed  breasts  bare ! 

"  Hast  thou  heard  the  fitful  wail 
That  overloads  the  sullen  gale 
When  the  waning  moon  shines  pale 

0*er  the  cursed  ground  there  ? 

"  Hark  !  hollow  moans  arise 
Through  the  black  tempestuous  skies, 
And  curses,  strife,  and  cries, 

From  the  lone  rath  swell ; 

"  For  bloody  Sydney  there 
Nightly  fills  the  lurid  air 
With  the  unholy  pompous  glare 

Of  the  foul,  deep  hell. 


THE  STOBY  OF  IBELAND. 


233 


"  False  Sydney  !  knighthood's  stain ! 
The  trusting  brave  —  in  vain 
Thy  guests  —  ride  o'er  the  plain 

To  thy  dark  cow'rd  snare ; 

"  Flow'r  of  Offaly  and  Leix, 
They  have  come  thy  board  to  grace  — 
Fools  !  to  meet  a  faithless  race, 

Save  with  true  swords  bare. 

"  While  cup  and  song  abound, 
The  triple  lines  surround 
The  closed  and  guarded  mound, 

In  the  night's  dark  noon. 

"  Alas !  too  brave  O'Moore, 
Ere  the  revelry  was  o'er, 
They  have  spill'd  thy  young  heart's  gore, 

Snatch'd  from  love  too  soon  ! 

"  At  the  feast,  unarmed  all, 
Priest,  bard,  and  chieftain  fall 
In  the  treacherous  Saxon's  hall, 

O'er  the  bright  wine  bowl; 

"  And  now  nightly  round  the  board. 
With  unsheath'd  and  reeking  sword, 
Strides  the  cruel  felon  lord 

Of  the  blood  stain 'd  soul. 

"  Since  that  hour  the  clouds  that  pass'd 
O'er  the  Rath  of  Mullaghmast, 
One  tear  have  never  cast 

On  the  gore  dyed  sod ; 

"  For  the  shower  of  crimson  rain 
That  o'erflowed  that  fatal  plain, 
Cries  aloud,  and  not  in  vain. 

To  the  most  high  God !  " 


A  sword  of  vengeance  tracked  Cosby  from  that  day. 
In  Leix  or  Offaly  after  this  terrible  blow  there  was  no 


234 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


raising  a  regular  force  ;  yet  of  the  family  thus  murderously 
cut  clown,  there  remained  one  man  who  thenceforth  lived 
but  to  avenge  his  slaughtered  kindred.  This  was  Ruari 
Oge  O'More,  the  guerilla  chief  of  Leix  and  Offaly,  long 
the  terror  and  the  scourge  of  the  Pale.  While  he  lived, 
none  of  Cosby's  "  undertakers  "  slept  securely  in  the  homes 
of  the  plundered  race.  Swooping  down  upon  their  cas- 
tles and  mansions,  towns  and  settlements,  Ruari  became 
to  them  an  Angel  of  Destruction.  When  they  deemed 
him  farthest  away,  his  sword  of  vengeance  was  at  hand. 
In  the  lurid  glare  of  burning  roof  and  blazing  granary, 
they  saw  like  a  spectre  from  the  rath,  the  face  of  an 
O'More  ;  and,  above  the  roar  of  the  flames,  the  shrieks 
of  victims,  or  the  crash  of  falling  battlements,  they  heard 
in  the  hoarse  voice  of  an  implacable  avenger  —  Itememher 
Mullaghmast !  " 

And  the  sword  of  Ireland  still  was  swift  and  strong  to 
pursue  the  author  of  that  bloody  deed,  and  to  strike  him 
and  his  race  through  two  generations.  One  by  one  they 
met  their  doom  — 

In  the  lost  battle 

Borne  down  by  the  flying ; 
Where  mingles  war's  rattle 

With  the  groans  of  the  dying." 

On  the  bloody  day  of  Glenmalure,  when  the  red  flag  of 
England  went  down  in  the  battle's  hurricane,  and  Eliza- 
beth's proud  viceroy.  Lord  Grey  de  Wilton,  and  all  the 
chivalry  of  the  Pale  were  scattered  and  strewn  like 
autumn  leaves  in  the  gale,  Cosby  of  Mullaghmast  fell  in 
the  rout,  sent  swiftly  to  eternal  judgment  with  the  brand 
of  Cain  upon  his  brow.  A  like  doom,  a  fatality,  tracked 
his  children  from  generation  to  generation  !  They  too 
perished  by  the  sword  or  the  battle-axe  —  the  last  of  them, 
son  and  grandson,  on  one  day,  by  the  stroke  of  an  aven- 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


235 


ging  O'More  ^  —  until  it  may  be  questioned  if  there  now 
exists  a  human  being  in  whose  veins  runs  the  blood  of  the 
greatly  infamous  knight  commander,  Sir  Francis  Cosby. 

The  battle  of  Glenmalure  was  fought  25th  of  August, 
1580.  That  magnificent  defile,  as  I  have. already  remarked, 
in  the  words  of  one  of  our  historians,  had  long  been  for  the 
patriots  of  Leinster  "a  fortress  dedicated  by  nature  to  the 
defence  of  freedom ; "  and  never  had  fortress  of  freedom 
a  nobler  soul  to  command  its  defence  than  he  who  now 
held  Glenmalure  for  God  and  Ireland  —  Feach  M'Hugh 
O'Byrne,  of  Ballinacor,  called  by  the  English  "  The  Fire- 
brand of  the  Mountains."  In  his  time  no  sword  was  drawn 
for  liberty  in  any  corner  of  the  island,  near  or  far,  that  his 
own  good  blade  did  not  leap  responsively  from  its  scabbard 
to  aid  ''the  good  old  cause."  Whether  the  tocsin  was 
sounded  in  the  north  or  in  the  south,  it  ever  woke  pealing 
echoes  amidst  the  hills  of  Glenmalure.  As  in  later  years, 
Feach  of  Ballinacor  was  the  most  trusted  and  faithful  of 
Hugh  O'Neill's  friends  and  allies,  so  was  he  now  in  arms 
stoutly  battling  for  the  Geraldine  league.  His  son-in-law,. 
Sir  Francis  Fitzgerald,  and  James  Eustace,  Viscount  Bal- 
tinglass,  had  rallied  what  survived  of  the  clansmen  of 
Idrone,  Offaly,  and  Leix,  and  had  effected  a  junction  with 
him,  taking  up  strong  positions  in  the  passes  of  Slieveroe 
and  Glenmalure.  Lord  Grey  of  Wilton  arrived  as  lord 
lieutenant  from  England  on  the  12th  August.  Eager  to 
signalise  his  advent  to  office  by  some  brilliant  achievement, 
he  rejoiced  greatly  that  so  near  at  hand  —  within  a  day's 
march  of  Dublin  Castle  —  an  opportunity  presented  itself. 
Yes !  He  would  measure  swords  with  this  wild  chief  of 
Glenmalure  who  had  so  often  defied  the  power  of  England. 
He  would  extinguish  the  "  Firebrand  of  the  Mountain," 

1  *'  Ouney,  son  of  Ruari  Oge  O'More,  slew  Alexander  and  Francis  Cosby, 
son  and  grandson  of  Cosby  of  MuUaghmast,  and  routed  their  troops  with 
great  slaughter,  at  Stradbally  Bridge,  19th  May,  1597." 


236 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


and  plant  the  cross  of  St.  George  on  the  ruins  of  Balli- 
nacor !  So,  assembling  a  right  royal  host,  the  haughty 
viceroy  marched  upon  Glenmalure.  The  only  accounts 
which  we  possess  of  the  battle  are  those  contained  in 
letters  written  to  .  England  by  Sir  William  Stanley  and 
others  of  the  lord  lieutenant's  officials  and  subordinates ; 
so  that  we  may  be  sure,  the  truth  is  very  scantily  revealed. 
Lord  Grey  having  arrived  at  the  entrance  to  the  glen, 
seems  to  have  had  no  greater  anxiety  than  to  ''hem  in" 
the  Irish.  So  he  constructed  a  strong  earthwork  or  en- 
trenched camp  at  the  mouth  of  the  valley  the  more  effectu- 
ally to  stop  "  escape  "  !  It  never  once  occurred  to  the 
vain-glorious  English  viceroy  that  it  was  he  himself  and 
his  royal  army  that  were  to  play  the  part  of  fugitives  in 
the  approaching  scene !  All  being  in  readiness,  Lord 
Grey  gave  the  order  of  the  advance ;  he  and  a  group  of 
courtier  friends  taking  their  place  on  a  high  ground  com- 
manding a  full  view  up  the  valley,  so  that  they  might  lose 
nothing  of  the  gratifying  spectacle  anticipated.  An  omi- 
nous silence  prevailed  as  the  English  regiments  pushed 
their  way  into  the  glen.  The  courtiers  waxed  witty ;  they 
wondered  whether  the  game  had  not  "stolen  away;" 
they  sadly  thought  there  would  be  "no  sport;"  or  they 
halloed  right  merrily  to  the  troops  to  follow  on  and  "  un- 
earth "  the  "  old  fox."  After  a  while  the  way  became 
more  and  more  tedious.  "  We  were,"  says  Sir  William 
Stanley,  "  forced  to  slide  sometimes  three  or  four  fathoms 
ere  we  could  stay  our  feet ; "  the  way  being  "  full  of 
stones,  rocks,  logs,  and  wood;  in  the  bottom  thereof  a 
river  full  of  loose  stones  which  we  were  driven  to  cross 
divers  times."  At  length  it  seemed  good  to  Feach  M'Hugh 
O'Byrne  to  declare  that  the  time  had  come  for  action. 
Then  from  the  forest-clad  mountain  sides  there  burst  forth 
a  wild  shout  whereat  many  of  the  jesting  courtiers  turned 
pale  ;  and  a  storm  of  bullets  assailed  the  entangled  English 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


23T 


legions.  As  yet  the  foe  was  unseen ,  but  his  execution 
was  disastrous.  The  English  troops  broke  into  disorder. 
Lord  Grey,  furious  and  distracted,  ordered  up  the  reserves ; 
but  now  Feach  passed  the  word  along  the  Irish  lines  to 
charge  the  foe.  Like  the  torrents  of  winter  pouring  down 
those  hills,  down  swept  the  Irish  force  from  every  side 
upon  the  struggling  mass  below.  Vain  was  all  effort  to 
wrestle  against  such  a  furious  charge.  From  the  very  first 
it  became  a  pursuit.  How  to  escape  was  now  each  castle 
courtier's  wild  endeavour.  Discipline  was  utterly  cast 
aside  in  the  panic  rout !  Lord  Grey  and  a  few  attendants 
fled  early,  and  by  fleet  horses  saved  themselves ;  but  of 
all  the  brilliant  host  the  viceroy  had  led  out  of  Dublin 
a  few  days  before,  there  returned  but  a  few  shattered 
companies  to  tell  the  tale  of  disaster,  and  to  surround 
with  new  terrors  the  name  of  Feach  M'Hugh,  the  Fire- 
brand of  the  Mountains." 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

•HUGH  OF  DUNGANNON."  HOW  QUEEN  ELIZABETH 
BROUGHT  UP  THE  YOUNG  IRISH  CHIEF  AT  COURT, 
WITH  CERTAIN  CRAFTY  DESIGNS  OF  HER  OWN. 

^^^^HERE  now  appears  upon  the  scene  of  Irish  his- 


tory  that  remarkable  man  whose  name  will  live 
in  song  and  story  as  long  as  the  Irish  race 
survives;  leader  of  one  of  the  greatest  strug- 
gles ever  waged  against  the  Anglo-Norman  subjugation ; 
Hugh  O'Neill;  called  in  English  "patents"  Earl  of 
Tyrone. 

Ever  since  the  closing  years  of  the  eighth  Henry's 


238 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


reign  —  the  period  at  which,  as  I  have  already  explained, 
the  polic}'  of  splitting  up  the  clans  by  rival  chiefs  began 
to  be  -adopted  by  the  English  power  —  the  government 
took  care  to  provide  itself,  by  fair  means  or  by  foul,  with 
a  supply  of  material  from  which  crown  chiefs  might  be 
taken.  That  is  to  say,  the  government  took  care  to  have 
in  its  hands,  and  trained  to  its  own  purposes,  some  mem- 
ber or  members  of  each  of  the  ruling  families  —  the 
O'Neills,  O'Reillys,  O'Donnells,  M'Guires,  O'Connors,  etc., 
ready  to  be  set  up  as  the  king's  or  queen's  O'Neill, 
O'Reilly,  or  O'Donnell,  as  the  case  might  be,  according  as 
policy  dictated  and  opportunity  offered.  One  of  these 
government  proteges  was  Hugh  O'Neill,  who,  when  yet  a 
boy,  was  taken  to  London  and  brought  up  in  the  court  of 
Elizabeth.  As  he  was  a  scion  of  the  royal  house  of 
O'Neill,  and,  in  English  plannings,  destined  one  day  to 
play  the  most  important  part  as  yet  assigned  to  a  queen's* 
chief  in  Ireland,  viz.,  the  reducing  to  subserviency  of  that 
Ulster  which  formed  the  standing  menace  of  English 
power,  the  unconquerable  citadel  of  nationality,  the  boy 
Hugh  — the  young  Baron  of  Dungannon  as  he  was  called 
—  was  the  object  of  unusual  attention.  He  was  an  espe- 
cial favourite  with  the  queen,  and  as  may  be  supposed  the 
courtiers  all,  lords  and  ladies,  took  care  to  pay  him  suita- 
ble obeisance.  No  pains  were  spared  with  his  education. 
He  had  the  best  tutors  to  attend  upon  him,  and  above  all 
he  was  assiduously  trained  into  court  finesse,  how  to  dis- 
semble, and  with  smooth  and  smiling  face  to  veil  the  true 
workings  of  mind  and  heart.  In  this  way  it  was  hoped 
to  mould  the  young  Irish  chief  into  English  shape  for 
English  purposes ;  it  never  once  occurring  to  his  royal 
trainers  that  nature  some  day  might  burst  forth  and 
prove  stronger  than  courtl}'  artificiality,  or  that  the  arts 
they  were  so  assiduously  teaching  the  boy  chief  for  the 
ruin  of  his  country's  independence,  might  be  turned 


THE  STOBY  OF  lUELANB, 


239 


against  themselves.  In  due  time  he  was  sent  into  the 
army  to  perfect  his  military  studies,  aud  eventually  (fully 
trained,  polished,  educated,  and  prepared  for  the  role 
designed  for  him  by  his  English  masters)  he  took  up  his 
residence  at  his  family  seat  in  Dungannon. 

Fortunately  for  the  fame  of  Hugh  O'Neill,  and  for  the 
Irish  nation  in  whose  history  he  played  so  memorable  a 
part,  the  life  of  that  illustrious  man  has  been  written  in 
our  generation  by  a  biographer  worthy  of  the  theme. 
Amongst  the  masses  of  Irishmen,  comparatively  little 
\vould  be  known  of  that  wondrous  career  had  its  history 
not  been  popularised  by  John  Mitchel's  Life  of  Hugh 
O'Neill.  The  dust  of  centuries  had  been  allowed  to  cover 
the  noble  picture  drawn  from  life  by  the  master  hand  of 
Don  Philip  O'SuUivan  Beare  —  a  writer  but  for  whom  we 
should  now  be  without  any  contemporaneous  record  of  the 
most  eventful  period  of  Anglo-Irish  history,  save  the  un- 
just and  distorted  versions  of  bitterly  partisan  English 
officials.^  Don  Philip's  history,  however,  was  practically 
inaccessible  to  the  masses  of  Irishmen  ;  and  to  Mr.  Mitchel 
is  almost  entirely  owing  the  place  O'Neill  now  holds  — 
his  rightful  prominence  —  in  popular  estimation. 

Mr.  Mitchel  pictures  the  great  Ulster  chieftain  to  us  a 
patriot  from  the  beginning  ;  adroitly  and  dissemblingly 
biding  his  time  ;  learning  all  that  was  to  be  learned  in 
the  camp  of  the  enemy ;  looking  far  ahead  into  the  future, 
and  shaping  his  course  from  the  start  with  fixed  purpose 
towards  the  goal  of  national  independence.    This,  how- 

1  To  Don  Philip's  great  work  the  Historic^  CathoUcce  Ihernice,  we  are 
indebted  for  nearly  all  that  we  know  of  this  memorable  struggle.  "He 
is,"  says  Mr.  Mitchel,  the  only  writer,  Irish  or  foreign,  who  gives  an  in- 
telligible account  of  O'Neill's  battles;  but  he  was  a  soldier  as  well  as  a 
chronicler."  Another  writer  says,  ''The  loss  of  this  history  could  not  be 
supplied  by  any  work  extant."  Don  Philip  was  nephew  to  Donal,  last  lord 
of  Bear,  of  whom  we  shall  hear  more  anon.  The  Historice  Ibernice  was 
written  in  Latin,  and  published  about  the  year  1621,  in  Lisbon,  the  O'Sul- 
livans  having  settled  in  Spain  after  the  fall  of  Dunboy. 


240 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


ever,  cannot  well  be  considered  more  than  a  "view,"  a 
"theory,"  a  "reading."  O'Neill  was,  during  his  earlier 
career,  in  purpose  and  in  plan,  in  mind,  manner,  and 
action,  quite  a  different  man  from  the  O'Neill  of  his  later 
years.  It  is  very  doubtful  that  he  had  any  patriotic  aspira- 
tions after  national  independence  —  much  less  any  fixed 
policy  or  design  tending  thereto  —  until  long  after  he  first 
found  himself,  by  the  force  of  circumstances,  in  collision 
with  the  English  power.  In  him  we  see  the  conflicting 
influences  of  nature  and  nature-repressing  art.  His  Irish- 
ism was  ineradicable,  though  long  dormant.  His  court 
tutors  strove  hard  to  eliminate  it,  and  to  give  him  instead 
a  "  polished  "  Englishism  ;  but  they  never  more  than  par- 
tially succeeded.  They  put  a  court  lacquer  on  the  Celtic 
material,  and  the  superficial  wash  remained  for  a  few 
years,  not  more.  The  voice  of  nature  was  ever  crying 
out  to  Hugh  O'Neill.  For  some  years  after  leaving  court, 
he  lived  very  much  like  any  other  Anglicised  or  English 
baron,  in  his  house  at  Dungannon.  But  the  touch  of  his 
native  soil,  intercourse  with  neighbouring  Irish  chieftains, 
and  the  force  of  sympathy  with  his  own  people,  now  sur- 
rounding him,  were  gradually  telling  upon  him.  His  life 
then  became  a  curious  spectacle  of  inconsistencies,  as  he 
found  himself  pulled  and  strained  in  opposite  directions 
by  opposite  sympathies,  claims,  commands,  or  impulses ; 
sometimes,  in  proud  disregard  of  his  English  masters, 
behaving  like  a  true  Irish  O'Neill ;  at  other  times  swayed 
by  his  foreign  allegiance  into  acts  of  very  obedient  suit 
and  service  to  the  queen's  cause.  But  the  day  was  gradu- 
ally nearing  when  these  struggles  between  two  allegiances 
were  to  cease,  and  when  Hugh,  with  all  the  fervour  of  a 
great  and  noble  heart,  was  to  dedicate  his  life  to  one  unal- 
terable purpose,  the  overthrow  of  English  rule  and  the 
liberation  of  his  native  land ! 


THE  STOHY  OJ^  IBELAND. 


241 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

HOW  LORD  DEPUTY  PERROT  PLANNED  A  RIGHT  CUN- 
.  KING  EXPEDITION,  AND  STOLE  AWAY  THE  YOUTHFUL 
PRINCE  OF  TYRCONNELL.  HOW,  IN  THE  DUNGEONS 
OF  DUBLIN  CASTLE,  THE  BOY  CHIEF  LEARNED  HIS 
DUTY  TOWARDS  ENGLAND  ;  AND  HOW  HE  AT  LENGTH 
ESCAPED  AND  COMMENCED  DISCHARGING  THAT  DUTY. 

E  AN  WHILE,  years  passed  by,  and  another  Hugh 
had  begun  to  rise  above  the  northern  horizon, 
amidst  signs  and  perturbations  boding  no  good 
to  the  crown  and  government  of  the  Pale. 
This  was  Hugh  O'Donnell  — "  Hugh  Roe''  or  '^Red 
Hugh  "  —  son  of  the  reigning  chief  of  Tyrconnell.  Young 
O'Donnell,  who  was  at  this  time  a  fiery  stripling  of  fif- 
teen, was  already  known  throughout  the  five  provinces 
of  Ireland,  not  only  'by  the  report  of  his  beauty,  his 
agility,  and  his  noble  deeds,'  but  as  a  sworn  foe  to  the 
Saxons  of  the  Pale  ; "  and  the  mere  thought  of  the  possi- 
bility of  the  two  Hughs  —  Hugh  of  Tyrone  and  Hugh  of 
Tyrconnell  —  ever  forming  a  combination,  sufficed  to  fill 
Dublin  Castle  with  dismay.  For  already  indeed,  Hugh 
O'Neill's  ''loyalty"  was  beginning  to  be  considered  rather 
unsteady.  To  be  sure,  as  yet  no  man  durst  whisper  a 
word  against  him  in  the  queen's  hearing;  and  he  was  still 
ready  at  call  to  do  the  queen's  fighting  against  southern 
Geraldine,  O'Brien,  or  Mac  Caura.  But  the  astute  in 
these  matters  noted  that  he  was  unpleasantly  neighbourly 
and  friendly  with  the  northern  chiefs  and  tanists;  that, 
so  far  from  maintaining  suitable  ill-will  towards  the  reign- 
ing O'Neill  (whom  the  queen  meant  him  some  day  to 
overthrow),  Hugh  had  actually  treated  him  with  respect 


242 


TBS:  STORY  OF  int:tAnt). 


and  obedience.  Moreover  the  English  knew,"  says  the 
chronicler  of  Hugh  Roe,  "  that  it  was  J udith,  the  daughter 
of  O'Donnell,  and  sister  of  the  beforementioned  Hugh 
Roe,  that  was  the  spouse  and  best  beloved  of  the  Earl 
O'Neill."  "Those  six  companies  of  troops  also,"  says 
Mr.  Mitchel,  that  he  kept  on  foot  (in  the  queen's  name, 
but  for  his  own  behoof)  began  to  be  suspicious  in  the 
eyes  of  the  state ;  for  it  is  much  feared  that  he  changes 
the  men  so  soon  as  they  thoroughly  learn  the  use  of  arms, 
replacing  them  by  others,  all  of  his  own  clansmen,  whom 
he  diligently  drills  and  reviews  for  some  unknown  ser- 
vice. And  the  lead  he  imports  —  surely  the  roofing  of 
that  house  of  Dungannon  will  not  need  all  these  ship- 
loads of  lead ;  —  lead  enough  to  sheet  Glenshane,  or  clothe 
the  sides  of  Cairnocher.  And,  indeed,  a  rumour  does 
reach  the  deputy  in  Dublin,  that  there  goes  on  at  Dun- 
gannon an  incredible  casting  of  bullets.  No  wonder  that 
the  ej^es  of  the  English  government  began  to  turn  anx- 
iously to  the  north." 

"And  if  this  princely  Red  Hugh  should  live  to  take 
the  leading  of  his  sept  —  and  if  the  two  potent  chieftains 
of  the  north  should  forget  their  ancient  feud,  and  unite 
for  the  cause  of  Ireland,"  proceeds  Mr.  Mitchel,  "then, 
indeed,  not  only  this  settlement  of  the  Ulster  'counties' 
must  be  adjourned,  one  knows  not  how  long;  but  the 
Pale  itself  or  the  Castle  of  Dublin  might  hardly  protect 
her  majesty's  officers.  These  were  contingencies  which 
any  prudent  agent  of  the  queen  of  England  must  speedily 
take  order  to  prevent;  and  we  are  now  to  see  Perrot's 
device  for  that  end. 

"  Near  Rathmullan,  on  the  western  shore  of  Lough 
Swilly,  looking  towards  the  mountains  of  Innishowen, 
stood  a  monastery  of  Carmelites  and  a  church  dedicated 
to  the  Blessed  Virgin,  the  most  famous  place  of  devotion 
in  Tyrconnell,  whither  all  the  Clan-Connell,  both  chiefs 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND.  243 


and  people,  made  resort  at  certain  seasons  to  pay  their 
devotions.  Here  the  young  Red  Hugh,  with  Mac  Swyne 
of  the  battle-axes,  O'Gallagher  of  Ballyshannon,  and  some 
other  chiefs,  were  in  the  summer  of  1587  sojourning  a 
short  time  in  that  part  to  pay  their  vows  of  religion ;  but 
not  without  stag-hounds  and  implements  of  chase,  having 
views  upon  the  red-deer  of  Fanad  and  Innishowen.  One 
day,  while  the  prince  was  here,  a  swift-sailing  merchant 
ship  doubled  the  promontory  of  Dunaff,  stood  up  the 
lough,  and  cast  anchor  opposite  RathmuUan ;  a  '  bark, 
black-hatched,  deceptive,'  bearing  the  flag  of  England, 
and  offering  for  sale,  as  a  peaceful  trader,  her  cargo  of 
Spanish  wine.  And  surely  no  more  courteous  merchant 
than  the  master  of  that  ship  had  visited  the  north  for 
many  a  year.  He  invited  the  people  most  hospitably  on 
board,  solicited  them,  whether  purchasers  or  not,  to  par- 
take of  his  good  cheer,  entertained  them  with  music  and 
wine,  and  so  gained  very  speedily  the  good  will  of  all 
Fanad.  Red  Hugh  and  his  companions  soon  heard  of  the 
obliging  merchant  and  his  rare  wines.  They  visited  the 
ship,  where  they  were  received  with  all  respect,  and, 
indeed,  with  unfeigned  joy ;  descended  into  the  cabin, 
and  with  connoisseur  discrimination  tried  and  tasted,  and 
finally  drank  too  deeply;  and  at  last  when  they  would 
come  on  deck  and  return  to  the  shore,  they  found  them- 
selves secured  under  hatches ;  their  weapons  had  been 
removed ;  night  had  fallen ;  they  were  prisoners  to  those 
traitor  Saxons.  Morning  dawned,  and  they  looked  anx- 
iously towards  the  shore ;  but,  ah !  where  is  Rathmullan 
and  the  Carmelite  church  ?  And  what  wild  coast  is  this  ? 
Past  Malin  and  the  cliffs  of  Innishowen ;  past  Benmore, 
and  southward  to  the  shores  of  Antrim  and  the  moun- 
tains of  Mourne  flew  that  ill-omened  bark,  and  never 
dropped  anchor  till  she  lay  under  the  towers  of  Dublin. 
The  treacherous  Perrot  joyfully  received  his  prize,  and 


244 


THE  STORY  OF  IB  EL  AND, 


'exulted,'  says  an  historian,  'in  the  easiness  and  success 
with  which  he  had  procured  hostages  for  the  peaceable 
submission  of  O'DonnelL'  And  the  prince  of  Tyrconnell 
was  thrown  into  'a  strong  stone  castle,'  and  kept  in 
heavy  irons  three  years  and  three  months,  'meditating,' 
says  the  chronicle,  '  on  the  feeble  and  impotent  condition 
of  his  friends  and  relations,  of  his  princes  and  supreme 
chiefs,  of  his  nobles  and  clergy,  his  poets  and  professors."  ^ 

Three  long  and  weary  years  —  oh!  but  they  seemed 
three  ages !  —  the  young  Hugh  pined  in  the  grated  dun- 
geons of  that  "  Bermingham  Tower,"  which  still  stands  in 
Dublin  Castle  yard.  How  the  fierce  hot  spirit  of  the 
impetuous  northern  youth  chafed  in  this  cruel  captivity ! 
He,  accustomed  daily  to  breathe  the  free  air  of  his  native 
hills  in  the  pastimes  of  the  chase,  now  gasped  for  breath 
in  the  close  and  fetid  atmosphere  of  a  squalid  cell !  He, 
the  joy  and  the  pride  of  an  aged  father  —  the  strong  hope 
of  a  thousand  faithful  clansmen  —  was  now  the  helpless 
object  of  jailers'  insolence,  neglect,  and  persecution ! 
"Three  years  and  three  months,"  the  old  chroniclers  tell 
us,  —  when  hark !  there  is  whispering  furtively  betimes 
as  young  Hugh  and  Art  Kavanagh,  and  other  of  the  cap- 
tives meet  on  the  stone  stairs,  or  the  narrow  landing,  by 
the  warders'  gracious  courtesy.  Yes ;  Art  had  a  plan  of 
escape.  Escape  !  Oh  !  the  thought  sends  the  blood  rush- 
ing hotly  through  the  veins  of  Red  Hugh.  Escape ! 
Home  !  Freedom  on  the  Tyrconnell  hills  once  more ! 
O  blessed,  thrice  blessed  words ! 

It  is  even  so.  And  now  all  is  arranged,  and  the  daring 
attempt  waits  but  a  night  favourably  dark  and  wild  — 
which  comes  at  last ;  and  while  the  sentries  shelter  them- 
selves from  the  pitiless  sleet,  the  young  fugitives,  at  peril 
of  life  or  limb,  are  stealthily  scaling  or  descending  bastion 


1  Mitchel's  Life  of  Hugh  O'Neill. 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


245 


and  battlement,  fosse  and  barbican.  With  beating  hearts 
they  pass  the  last  sentry,  and  now  through  the  city  streets 
they  grope  their  way  southwards ;  for  the  nearest  hand 
of  succour  is  amidst  the  valleys  of  Wicklow.  Theirs  is  a 
slow  and  toilsome  progress ;  they  know  not  the  paths,  and 
they  must  hide  by  day  and  fly  as  best  they  can  in  the 
night-time  through  wooded  country.  At  length  they  cross 
the  Three  Rock  Mountain,  and  look  down  upon  Glencree. 
But  alas !  Young  Hugh  sinks  down  exhausted.  Three 
years  in  a  dungeon  have  cramped  his  limbs,  and  he  is  no 
longer  the  Hugh  that  bounded  like  a  deer  on  the  slopes 
of  Glenvigh !  His  feet  are  torn  and  bleeding  from  sharp 
rock  and  piercing  bramble ;  his  strength  is  gone ;  he  can 
no  further  fly.  He  exhorts  his  companions  to  speed  on- 
wards and  save  themselves,  while  he  secretes  himself  in 
the  copse  and  awaits  succour  if  they  can  send  it.  Reluc- 
tantly, and  only  yielding  to  his  urgent  entreaties,  they 
departed.  A  faithful  servant,  we  are  told,  who  had  been 
in  the  secret  of  Hugh's  escape,  still  remained  with  him, 
and  repaired  for  succour  to  the  house  of  Felim  O'Tuhal, 
the  beautiful  site  of  whose  residence  is  now  called  Pow- 
ers-court. Felim  was  known  to  be  a  friend,  though  he 
dared  not  openly  disclose  the  fact.  He  was  too  close  to 
the  seat  of  the  English  power,  and  was  obliged  to  keep  on 
terms  with  the  Pale  authorities.  But  now  "the  flight  of 
the  prisoners  had  created  great  excitement  in  Dublin,  and 
numerous  bands  were  dispatched  in  pursuit  of  them." 
It  was  next  to  impossible  — certainly  full  of  danger  —  for 
the  friendly  O'Tuhal,  with  the  English  scouring-parties 
spread  all  over  hill  and  vale,  to  bring  in  the  exhausted 
and  helpless  fugitive  from  his  hiding  place,  where  never- 
theless he  must  perish  if  not  quickly  reached.  Sorrow- 
fully and  reluctantly  Felim  was  forced  to  conclude  that 
all  hope  of  escape  for  young  Hugh  this  time  must  be 
abandoned,  and  that  the  best  course  was  to  pretend  to 


246 


TEE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


discover  him  in  the  copse,  and  to  make  a  merit  of  giving 
him  up  to  his  pursuers.  So,  with  a  heart  bursting  with 
mingled  rage,  grief,  and  despair,  Hugh  found  himself  once 
more  in  the  gripe  of  his  savage  foes.  He  was  brought 
back  to  Dublin  "loaded  with  heavy  iron  fetters,"  and 
flung  into  a  narrower  and  stronger  dungeon,  to  spend 
another  year  cursing  the  day  that  Norman  foot  had 
touched  the  Irish  shore. 

There  he  lay  until  Christmas  Day,  25th  December,  1592, 
"when,"  says  the  old  chronicle,  "it  seemed  to  the  Son  of 
the  Virgin  time  for  him  to  escape."  Henry  and  Art 
O'Neill,  fellow-prisoners,  were  on  this  occasion  companions 
of  Hugh's  flight.  In  fact  the  lord  deputy,  Fitzwilliam,  a 
needy  and  corrupt  creature,  had  taken  a  bribe  from  Hugh 
O'Neill  to  afford  opportunity  for  the  escape.  Hugh  of 
Dungannon  had  designs  of  his  own  in  desiring  the  freedom 
of  all  three ;  for  events  to  be  noted  further  on  had  been 
occurring,  and  already  he  was,  like  a  skilful  statesman, 
preparing  for  future  contingencies.  He  knew  that  the 
liberation  of  Red  Hugh  would  give  him  an  ally  worth  half 
Ireland,  and  he  knew  that  rescuing  the  two  O'Neills  would 
leave  the  government  without  a  "  queen's  O'Neill "  to  set 
up  against  him  at  a  future  day.  Of  this  escape  Haverty 
gives  us  the  following  account :  — 

"They  descended  by  a  rope  through  a  sewer  which 
opened  into  the  Castle  ditch ;  and  leaving  there  the  soiled 
outer  garments,  they  were  conducted  by  a  young  man, 
named  Turlough  Roe  O'Hagan,  the  confidential  servant  or 
emissary  of  the  Earl  of  Tyrone^  who  was  sent  to  act  as  their 
guide.  Passing  through  the  gates  of  the  city,  which  were 
still  open,  three  of  the  party  reached  the  same  Slieve  Rua 
which  Hugh  had  visited  on  the  former  occasion.  The 
fourth,  Henry  O'Neill,  strayed  from  his  companions  in 
some  way  —  probably  before  they  left  the  city  —  but 
eventually  he  reached  Tyrone,  where  the  earl  seized  and 


THE  STOEY  OF  IRELAND. 


247 


imprisoned  him.  Hugh  Roe  and  Art  O'Neill,  with  their 
faithful  guide,  proceeded  on  their  way  over  the  Wicklow 
mountains  towards  Glenmalure,  to  Feagh  Mac  Hugh 
O'Byrne,  a  chief  famous  for  his  heroism,  and  who  was 
then  in  arms  against  the  government.  Art  O'Neill  had 
grown  corpulent  in  prison,  and  had  besides  been  hurt  in 
descending  from  the  Castle,  so  that  he  became  quite 
worn  out  from  fatigue.  The  party  were  also  exhausted 
with  hunger,  and  as  the  snow  fell  thickly,  and  their  cloth- 
ing was  very  scanty,  they  suffered  additionally  from  intense 
cold.  For  awhile  Red  Hugh  and  the  servant  supported 
Art  between  them  ;  but  this  exertion  could  not  long  be 
sustained,  and  at  length  Red  Hugh  and  Art  lay  down  ex- 
hausted under  a  lofty  rock,  and  sent  the  servant  to  Glen- 
malure for  help.  With  all  possible  speed  Feagh  O'Byrne, 
on  receiving  the  message,  dispatched  some  of  his  trusty 
men  to  carry  the  necessary  succour ;  but  they  arrived  almost 
too  late  at  the  precipice  under  which  the  two  youths  lay. 
'  Their  bodies,'  say  the  Four  Masters,  '  were  covered  with 
white-bordered  shrouds  of  hailstones  freezing  around  them, 
and  their  light  clothes  adhered  to  their  skin,  so  that,  cov- 
ered as  they  were  with  the  snow,  it  did  not  appear  to  the 
men  who  had  arrived  that  they  were  human  beings  at  all, 
for  they  found  no  life  in  their  members,  but  just  as  if  they 
were  dead.'  On  being  raised  up.  Art  O'Neill  fell  back 
and  expired,  and  was  buried  on  the  spot;  but  Red  Hugh 
was  revived  with  some  difficulty,  and  carried  to  Glenma- 
lure, where  he  was  secreted  in  a  sequestered  cabin  and 
attended  by  a  physician." 

Mr.  Mitchel  describes  for  us  the  sequel.  "O'Byrne 
brought  them  to  his  house  and  revived  and  warmed  and 
clothed  them,  and  instantly  sent  a  messenger  to  Hugh 
O'Neill  (with  whom  he  was  then  in  close  alliance)  with 
the  joyful  tidings  of  O'Donnell's  escape.  O'Neill  heard 
it  with  delight,  and  sent  a  faithful  retainer,  Tirlough 


248 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


Buidhe  O'Hagan,  who  was  well  acquainted  with  the  coun- 
try, to  guide  the  young  chief  into  Ulster.  After  a  few 
days  of  rest  and  refreshment,  O'Donnell  and  his  guide  set 
forth,  and  the  Irish  chronicler  minutely  details  that  peril- 
ous journey ;  —  how  they  crossed  the  Liffey  far  to  the  west- 
ward of  Fitzwilliam^s  hated  towers,  and  rode  cautiously 
through  Fingal  and  Meath,  avoiding  the  garrisons  of  the 
Pale,-  until  they  arrived  at  the  Boyne,  a  short  distance 
west  of  Inver  Colpa  (Drogheda),  'where  the  Danes  had 
built  a  noble  city ; '  how  they  sent  round  their  horses 
through  the  town,  and  themselves  passed  over  in  a  fish- 
erman's boat;  how  they  passed  by  Mellifont,  a  great  mon- 
astery, 'which  belonged  to  a  noted  young  Englishman 
attached  to  Hugh  O'Neill,'  and  therefore  met  with  no  in- 
terruption there  ;  rode  right  through  Dundalk,  and  entered 
the  friendly  Irish  countrj^,  where  they  had  nothing  more  to 
fear.  One  night  they  rested  at  Feadth  Mor  (the  Fews), 
whei^  O'Neill's  brother  had  a  house,  and  the  next  day 
crossed  the  Blackwater  at  Moy,  and  so  to  Dungannon, 
where  O'Neill  received  them  right  joyfully.  And  here 
'  the  two  Hughs '  entered  into  a  strict  and  cordial  friend- 
ship, and  told  each  other  of  their  wrongs  and  of  their 
hopes.  O'Neill  listened,  with  such  feelings  as  one  can 
imagine,  to  the  story  of  the  youth's  base  kidnapping  and 
cruel  imprisonment  in  darkness  and  chains ;  and  the  im- 
petuous Hugh  Roe  heard  with  scornful  rage  of  the  Eng- 
lish deputy's  atrocity  towards  Mac  Mahon,  and  attempts 
to  bring  his  accursed  sheriffs  and  juries  amongst  the  an- 
cient Irish  of  Ulster.  And  they  deeply  swore  to  bury 
for  ever  the  unhappy  feuds  of  their  families,  and  to  stand 
by  each  other  with  all  the  powers  of  the  North  against 
their  treacherous  and  relentless  foe.  The  chiefs  parted, 
and  O'Donnell,  with  an  escort  of  the  Tyrowen  cavalry, 
passed  into  Mac  Gwire's  country.  The  chief  of  Ferma 
nagh  received  him  with  honour,  eagerly  joined  in  the  con- 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


249 


federacy,  and  gave  him  '  a  black  polished  boat,'  in  which 
the  prince  and  his  attendants  rowed  through  Lough  Erne, 
and  glided  down  that  '  pleasant  salmon-breeding  river ' 
which  leads  to  Ballyshannon  and  the  ancient  seats  of  the 
Clan-Conal. 

We  may  conceive  with  what  stormy  joy  the  tribes  of 
Tyrconnell  welcomed  their  prince  ;  with  what  mingled  pity 
and  wrath,  thanksgivings  and  curses,  they  heard  of  his 
chains,  and  wanderings,  and  sufferings,  and  beheld  the 
feet  that  used  to  bound  so  lightly  on  the  hills,  swollen  and 
crippled  by  that  cruel  frost,  by  the  crueller  fetters  of  the 
Saxon.  But  little  time  was  now  for  festal  rejoicing  or  the 
unprofitable  luxury  of  cursing;  for  just  then.  Sir  Richard 
Bingham,  the  English  leader  in  Connaught,  relying  on  the 
irresolute  nature  of  old  O'Donnell,  and  not  aware  of  Red 
Hugh's  return,  had  sent  two  hundred  men  by  sea  to  Done- 
gal, where  they  took  by  surprise  the  Franciscan  monas- 
tery, drov^  away  the  monks  (making  small  account  of 
their  historic  studies  and  learned  annals),  and  garrisoned 
the  buildings  for  the  queen.  The  fiery  Hugh  could  ill  en- 
dure to  hear  of  these  outrages,  or  brook  an  English  garri- 
son upon  the  soil  of  Tyrconnell.  He  collected  the  people 
in  hot  haste,  led  them  instantly  into  Donegal,  and  com- 
manded the  English  by  a  certain  day  and  hour  to  betake 
themselves  with  all  speed  back  to  Connaught,  and  leave 
behind  them  the  rich  spoils  they  had  taken  ;  all  which  the}^ 
thought  it  prudent  without  further  parley  to  do.  And 
so  the  monks  of  St.  Francis  returned  to  their  home  and 
their  books,  gave  thanks  to  God,  and  praj'ed,  as  well  they 
might,  for  Hugh  O'DonneU." 


250 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


CHAPTER  XL. 

HOW  HUGH   OF   DUNGANNON  WAS  MEANTIME  DRAWING 
OFF  FROM  ENGLAND  AND  DRAWING  NEAR  TO  IRELAND. 

URING  the  four  years  over  which  the  imprison- .. 
ment  of  Red  Hugh  extended,  important  events 
had  been  transpiring  in  the  outer  world ;  and 
amidst  them  the  character  of  Hugh  of  Dungan- 
non  was  undergoing  a  rapid  transmutation.  We  had 
already  seen  him  cultivating  friendly  relations  with  the 
neighbouring  chiefs,  though  most  of  them  were  in  a  state 
of  open  hostility  to  the  queen.  He,  by  degrees,  went 
much  farther  than  this.  He  busied  himself  in  the  disloyal 
work  of  healing  the  feuds  of  the  rival  clans,  and  extend- 
ing throughout  the  north  feelings  of  amity  —  nay,  a  net- 
work of  alliances  between  them.  To  some  of  the  native 
princes  he  lends  one  or  two  of  his  fully  trained  companies 
of  foot ;  to  others,  some  troops  of  his  cavalry.  He  secretly 
encourages  some  of  them  (say  his  enemies  at  court)  to 
stouter  resistance  to  the  English.  It  is  even  said  that  he 
harbours  Popish  priests.  "  North  of  Slieve  Gullion  the 
venerable  brehons  still  arbitrate  undisturbed  the  causes  of 
the  people ;  the  ancient  laws,  civilization,  and  religion 
stand  untouched.  Nay,  it  is  credibly  rumoured  to  the 
Dublin  deputy  that  this  noble  earl,  forgetful  apparently  of 
Ms  coronet  and  golden  chain,  and  of  his  high  favour  with 
so  potent  a  princess,  does  about  this  time  get  recognized 
and  solemnly  inaugurated  as  chieftain  of  his  sept,  by  the 
proscribed  name  of  '  The  O'Neill ; '  and  at  the  rath  of  Tul- 
loghoge,  on  the  Stone  of  Royalty,  amidst  the  circling 
warriors,  amidst  the  bards  and  ollamhs  of  Tyr-eoghain, 
'  receives  an  oath  to  preserve  :tll  the  ancient  former  customs 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


251 


of  the  country  inviolable,  and  to  deliver  up  the  succession 
peaceably  to  his  tanist ;  and  then  hath  a  wand  delivered  to 
him  by  one  whose  proper  office  that  is,  after  which,  de- 
scending from  the  stone,  he  turneth  himself  round  thrice 
forward  and  thrice  backward,'  even  as  the  O'Neills  had 
done  for  a  thousand  years  ;  altogether  in  the  most  un-Eng- 
lish manner,  and  with  the  strangest  ceremonies,  which  no 
garter  king-at-arms  could  endure."  c, 

While  matters  were  happening  thus  in  Ulster,  England 
was  undergoing  the  excitement  of  apprehended  invasion. 
The  Armada  of  Philip  the  Second  was  on  the  sea,  and 
the  English  nation  —  queen  and  people  —  Protestant  and 
Catholic  —  persecutor  and  persecuted  —  with  a  burst  of 
genuine  patriotism,  prepared  to  meet  the  invaders.  The 
elements,  however,  averted  the  threatened  doom.  A  hur- 
ricane of  unexampled  fury  scattered  Philip's  flotilla,  so 
vauntingly  styled  "invincible;"  the  ships  were  strewn, 
shattered  wrecks,  all  over  the  coasts  of  England  and  Ire- 
land. In  the  latter  country  the  crews  were  treated  very 
differently,  according  as  they  happened  to  be  cast  upon 
the  shores  of  districts  amenable  to  English  authority  or 
influences,  or  the  reverse.  In  the  former  instances  they, 
were  treated  barbarously  —  slain  as  the  queen's  enemies,  or 
given  up  to  the  queen's  forces.  In  the  latter,  they  were 
sheltered  and  succoured,  treated  as  friends,  and  afforded 
means  of  safe  return  to  their  native  Spain.  Some  of  these 
ships  were  cast  upon  the  coast  of  O'Neill's  country,  and  by 
no  one  were  the  Spanish  crews  more  kindly  treated,  more 
warmly  befriended,  than  by  Hugh,  erstwhiles  the  queen's  *' 
most  favoured  protege^  and  still  professedly  her  most  true 
and  obedient  servant.  This  hospitality  to  the  shipwrecked 
Spaniards,  however,  is  too  much  for  English  flesh  and 
blood  to  bear.  Hugh  is  openly  murmured  against  in 
Dublin  and  in  London.  And  soon  formal  proof  of  his 
"  treason  "  is  preferred.    An  envious  cousin  of  his,  known 


252 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


as  John  of  the  Fetters  —  a  natural  son  of  John  the  Proud, 
by  the  false  wife  of  O'Donnell  animated  by  a  mortal 
hatred  of  Hugh,  gave  information  to  the  lord  deputy  that 
he  had  not  only  regaled  the  Spanish  officers  right  royally 
at  Dungannon,  but  had  then  and  there  planned  with  them 
an  alliance  between  himself  and  King  Philip,  to  whom 
Hugh  —  so  said  his  accuser  —  had  forwarded  letters  and 
presents  by  the  said  officers.  All  of  which  the  said  accuser 
undertook  to  prove,  either  upon  the  body  of  Hugh  in 
mortal  combat,  or  before  a  jury  well  and  truly  packed  or 
empannelled,  as  the  case  might  be.  Whereupon  there 
was  dreadful  commotion  in  Dublin  Castle.  Hugh's  reply 
was  —  to  arrest  the  base  informer  on  a  charge  of  treason 
against  the  sacred  person  and  prerogatives  of  his  lawful 
chief;  which  charge  being  proved,  John  of  the  Fetters 
was  at  once  executed.  Indeed,  some  accounts  say  that 
Hugh  himself  had  to  act  as  executioner;  since  in  all 
Tyrone  no  man  could  be  prevailed  upon  to  put  to  death 
one  of  the  royal  race  of  Nial  —  albeit  an  attainted  and 
condemned  traitor.  Then  Hugh,  full  of  a  fine  glowing 
indignation  against  these  accusing  murmurers  in  Dublin, 
sped  straightway  to  London,  to  complain  of  them  to  the 
queen,  and  to  convince  her  anew,  with  that  politic  hypoc- 
risy taught  him  (for  quite  a  different  use,  though)  in  that 
same  court,  that  her  majesty  had  no  more  devoted  admirer 
than  himself.  And  he  succeeded.  He  professed  and  prom- 
ised the  most  ample  loyalty.  He  would  undertake  to 
harbour  no  more  Popish  priests  ;  he  would  admit  sheriffs 
into  Tyrone ;  he  would  no  more  molest  chiefs  friendly  to 
England,  or  befriend  chiefs  hostile  to  the  queen ;  and  as 
for  the  title  of  "  The  O'Neill,"  which,  it  was  charged,  he 
gloried  in,  while  feeling  quite  ashamed  of  the  mean  English 
title,  "Earl  of  Tyrone,"  he  protested  by  her  majesty's 
most  angelic  countenance  (ah,  Hugh  I)  that  he  merely 
adopted  it,  lest  some  one  else  might  possess  himself 


THi:  sTonr  of  Ireland, 


253 


thereof ;  but  if  it  in  the  least  offended  a  queen  so  beauti- 
ful and  so  exalted,  why  he  would  disown  it  for  ever  I  ^ 
Elizabeth  was  charmed  by  that  dear  sweet-spoken  young 
noble  — and  so  handsome  too.  (Hugh,  who  was  brought 
up  at  court,  knew  Elizabeth's  weak  points.)  The  Lord  of 
Dungannon  returned  to  Ireland  higher  than  ever  in  the 
queen's  favour;  and  his  enemies  in  Dublin  Castle  were 
overturned  for  that  time. 

The  most  inveterate  of  these  was  Sir  Henry  Bagnal,  com- 
mander of  the  Newry  garrison.  "  The  marshal  and  his 
English  garrison  in  the  castle  and  abbey  of  Newry,"  says 
Mr.  Mitchel,  were  a  secret  thorn  in  the  side  of  O'Neill. 
They  lay  upon  one  of  the  main  passes  to  the  north,  and  he 
had  deeply  vowed  that  one  day  the  ancient  monastery,  de 
viridi  ligno^  should  be  swept  clear  of  this  foreign  soldiery. 
But  in  that  castle  of  Newry  the  Saxon  marshal  had  a  fair 
sister,  a  woman  of  rarest  beauty,  whom  O'Neill  thought  it 
a  sin  to  leave  for  a  spouse  to  some  churl  of  an  English 
undertaker.  And  indeed  we  next  hear  of  him  as  a  love- 
suitor  at  the  feet  of  the  English  beauty."  Haverty  tells 
the  story  of  this  romantic  love -suit  as  follows  :  — 

"This  -man — the  marshal,  Sir  Henry  Bagnal  —  hated 
the  Irish  with  a  rancour  which  bad  men  are  known  to  feel 
towards  those  whom  they  have  mortally  injured.  He  had 
shed  a  great  deal  of  their  blood,  obtained  a  great  deal  of 
their  lands,  and  was  the  sworn  enemy  of  the  whole  race. 
Sir  Henry  had  a  sister  who  was  young  and  exceedingly 
beautiful.  The  wife  of  the  Earl  of  Tyrone,  the  daughter 
of  Sir  Hugh  Mac  Manus  O'Donnell,  had  died,  and  the 
heart  of  the  Irish  chieftain  was  captivated  by  the  beauti- 


1  Thus,  according  to  the  tenor  of-  English  chroniclers  ;  but  as  a  matter 
of  fact  Hugh  had  not  at  this  time  been  elected  as  The  O'Neill.  This  event 
occurred  subsequently;  the  existing  O'Neill  having  been  persuaded  or  com- 
pelled by  Hugh  Roe  of  Tyrconnell  to  abdicate,  that  the  clans  might,  as  they 
desired  to  do,  elect  Hugh  of  Dungannon  in  his  place. 


254 


THE  STOEY  OF  IBELANI). 


ful  English  girl.  His  love  was  reciprocated,  and  he  became 
in  due  form  a  suitor  for  her  hand  ;  but  all  efforts  to  gain 
her  brother's  consent  to  this  marriage  were  in  vain.  The 
story,  indeed,  is  one  which  might  seem  to  be  borrowed  from 
some  old  romance,  if  we  did  not  find  it  circumstantially 
detailed  in  the  matter-of-fact  documents  of  the  State  Paper 
Office.  The  Irish  prince  and  the  English  maiden  mutually 
plighted  their  vows,  and  O'Neill  presented  to  the  lady  a 
gold  chain  worth  one  hundred  pounds ;  but  the  inexorable 
Sir  Henry  removed  his  sister  from  Newry  to  the  house  of 
Sir  Patrick  Barnwell,  who  was  married  to  another  of  his 
sisters,  and  who  lived  about  seven  miles  from  Dublin. 
Hither  the  earl  followed  her.  He  was  courteously  received 
by  Sir  Patrick,  and  seems  to  have  had  many  friends  among 
the  English.  One  of  these,  a  gentleman  named  William 
Warren,  acted  as  his  confidant,  and  at  a  party  at  Barn- 
well's  house,  the  earl  engaged  the  rest  of  the  company  in 
conversation  while  Warren  rode  off  with  the  lady  behind 
him,  accompanied  by  two  servants,  and  carried  her  safely 
to  the  residence  of  a  friend  at  Drumcondra,  near  Dublin. 
Here  O'Neill  soon  followed,  and  the  Protestant  bishop  of 
Meath,  Thomas  Jones,  a  Lancashire  man,  was  easily  in- 
duced to  come  and  unite  them  in  marriage  the  same  even- 
ing.  This  elopement  and  marriage,  which  took  place  on 
the  3d  of  August,  1591,  were  made  the  subject  of  violent 
accusations  against  O'Neill.  Sir  Henry  Bagnal  was  furious. 
He  charged  the  earl  with  having  another  wife  living ;  but 
this  point  was  explained,  as  O'Neill  showed  that  this  lady, 
who  was  his  first  wife,  the  daughter  of  Sir  Brian  Mac 
Felim  O'Neill,  had  been  divorced  previous  to  his  marriage 
with  the  daughter  of  O'Donnell.  Altogether  the  govern- 
ment would  appear  to  have  viewed  the  conduct  of  O'Neill 
in  this  matter  rather  leniently  ;  but  Bagnal  was  henceforth 
his  most  implacable  foe,  and  the  circumstance  was  not 
without  its  influence  on  succeeding  events." 


THE  STOnr  OF  IRELAND. 


255 


CHAPTER  XLI. 

HOW  RED  HUGH  WENT  CIRCUIT  AGAINST  THE  ENGLISH 
IN  THE  NORTH.     HOW  THE  CRISIS  CAME  UPON  O'NEILL. 

Y  this  time  young  Hugh  Roe  O'Donnell  had,  as 
we  have  already  learned,  escaped  from  his  cruel 
captivity  in  Dublin,  mainly  by  the  help  of  that 
astute  and  skilful  organizer,  Hugh  of  Dungan- 
non.  In  the  spring  of  the  year  following,  on  the  3d  of 
May,  1593,  there  was  a  solemn  meeting  of  the  warriors, 
clergy,  and  bards  of  Tyrconnell,  at  the  Rock  of  Doune,  at 
Kilmacrenan,  '  the  nursing^  place  of  Columbcille.'  And 
here  the  father  of  Red  Hugh  renounced  the  chieftaincy  of 
the  sept,  and  his  impetuous  son  at  nineteen  years  of  age 
was  duly  inaugurated  by  Erenach  O'Firghil,  and  made  the 
O'Donnell  with  the  ancient  ceremonies  of  his  race." 

The  young  chief  did  not  wear  his  honours  idly.  In  the 
Dublin  dungeons  he  had  sworn  vows,  and  he  was  not  the 
man  to  break  them  ;  vows  that  while  his  good  right  hand 
could  draw  a  sword,  the  English  should  have  no  peace  in 
Ireland.  Close  by  the  O'DonnelFs  territory,  in  Strabane, 
old  Torlogh  Lynagh  O'Neill  had  admitted  an  English 
force  as  "auxiliaries"  forsooth.  "And  it  was  a  heart- 
break," says  the  old  chronicler,  "to  Hugh  O'Donnell,  that 
the  English  of  Dublin  should  thus  obtain  a  knowledge 
of  the  country."  He  fiercely  attacked  Strabane,  and  chased 
the  obnoxious  English  "auxiliaries  "  away,  "pardoning  old 
Torlogh  only  on  solemn  promise  not  to  repeat  his  offence. 
From  this  forth  Red  Hugh  engaged  himself  in  what  we 
may  call  a  circuit  of  the  north,  rooting  out  English  garri- 
sons, sheriffs,  seneschals,  or  functionaries  of  what  sort 
soever,  as  zealously  and  scrupulously  as  if  they  were 


266 


THE  SrOttY  OF  IRELAND. 


plague-pests.  Woe  to  the  English  chief  that  admitted 
a  queen's  sheriff  within  his  territories !  Hugh  was  down 
upon  him  like  a  whirlwind !  O'Donnell's  cordial  ally  in 
this  crusade  was  Maguire  lord  of  Fermanagh,  a  man  truly 
worthy  of  such  a  colleague.  Hugh  of  Dungannon  saw  with 
dire  concern  this  premature  conflict  precipitated  by  Red 
Hugh's  impetuosity.  Very  probably  he  was  not  unwilling 
that  O'Donnell  should  find  the  English  some  occupation  yet 
awhile  in  the  north ;  but  the  time  had  not  at  all  arrived 
(in  his  opinion)  for  the  serious  and  comprehensive  under- 
taking of  a  stand-up  fight  for  the  great  stake  of  national 
freedom.  But  it  was  vain  for  him  to  try  remonstrance 
with  Hugh  Roe,  whose  nature  could  ill  brook  restraint, 
and  who,  indeed,  could  not  relish  or  comprehend  at  all  the 
subtle  and  politic  slowness  of  P'Neill.  Hugh  of  Dungan- 
non, however,  would  not  allow  himself  at  any  hazard  to 
be  pushed  or  drawn  into  open  action  a  day  or  an  hour 
sooner  than  his  own  judgment  approved.  He  could  hardly 
keep  out  of  the  conflict  so  close  beside  him,  and  so,  rather 
than  be  precipitated  prematurely  into  the  struggle  which, 
no  doubt,  he  now  deemed  inevitable,  and  for  which,  accord- 
ingly, he  was  preparing,  he  made  show  of  joining  the  queen's 
side,  and  led  some  troops  against  Maguire.  It  was  noted, 
however,  that  the  species  of  assistance  which  he  gave  the 
English  generally  consisted  in  "  moderating  "  Hugh  Roe's 
punishment  of  them,  and  pleading  with  him  merely  to 
sweep  them  away  a  little  more  gently ;  interfering,"  as 
Moryson  informs  us,  ''to  save  their  lives,  07i  condition  of 
their  instayitly  quitting  the  country  l''  Now  this  seemed  to 
the  English  (small  wonder  indeed)  a  very  queer  kind  of 
"help."  It  was  not  what  suited  them  at  all;  and  we  need 
not  be  surprised  that  soon  Hugh's  accusers  in  Dublin  and 
in  London  once  more,  and  more  vehemently  than  ever, 
demanded  his  destruction. 

It  was  now  the  statesmen  and  courtiers  of  England  be- 


mi^  STORY  OF  inELA^^t), 


257 


gan  to  feel  that  craft  may  overleap  itself.  In  the  moment 
when  first  they  seriously  contemplated  Hugh  as  a  foe  to 
the  queen,  they  felt  like  "  the  engineer  hoist  by  his  own 
petard."  Here  was  their  own  pupil,  trained  under  their 
own  hands,  versed  in  their  closest  secrets,  and  let  into 
their  most  subtle  arts !  Here  was  the  steel  they  had 
polished  and  sharpened  to  pierce  the  heart  of  Ireland,  now 
turned  against  their  own  breast !  No  wonder  there  was 
dismay  and  consternation  in  London  and  Dublin  —  it  was 
so  hard  to  devise  any  plan  against  him  that  Hugh  would 
not  divine  like  one  of  themselves  I  Failing  any  better 
resort,  it  was  resolved  to  inveigle  him  into  Dublin  by  offer- 
ing him  a  safe-conduct,  and,  this  document  notwithstand- 
ing, to  seize  him  at  all  hazards.  Accordingly  Hugh  was 
duly  notified  of  charges  against  his  loyalty,  and  a  royal 
safe-conduct  was  given  to  him  that  he  might  "come  in  and 
appear."  To  the  utter  astonishment  of  the  plotters,  he 
came  with  the  greatest  alacrity,  and  daringly  confronted 
them  at  the  council-board  in  the  Castle  !  He  would  have 
been  seized  in  the  room,  but  for  the  nobly  honourable 
conduct  of  the  Earl  of  Ormond,  whose  indignant  letter  to 
the  lord  treasurer  Burleigh  (in  reply  to  the  queen's  order 
to  seize  O'Neill)  is  recorded  by  Carte:  ''My  lord,  I  will 
never  use  treachery  to  any  man ;  for  it  would  both  touch 
her  highness's  honour  and  my  own  credit  too  much ;  and 
whosoever  gave  the  queen  advice  thus  to  write,  is  fitter 
for  such  base  service  than  I  am.  .Saving  my  duty  to  her 
majesty,  I  would  I  might  have  revenge  by  mj  sword  of 
any  man  that  thus  persuaded  the  queen  to  write  to  me/' 
Ormond  acquainted  O'Neill  with  the  perfidy  designed 
against  him,  and  told  him  that  if  he  did  not  fly  that  niglit 
he  was  lost,  as  the  false  deputy  was  drawing  a  cordon 
round  Dublin.  O'Neill  made  his  escape,  and  prepared  to 
meet  the  crisis  which  now  he  knew  to  be  at  hand.  ''News 
soon  reached  him  in  tlie  nortli,"  as  Mr.  Mitchel  recounts, 


THE  STORY  OP  IBELANl), 


that  large  reinforcements  were  on  their  way  to  the 
deputy  from  England,  consisting  of  veteran  troops  who 
had  fought  in  Bretagne  and  Flanders  under  Sir  John 
Norreys,  the  most  experienced  general  in  Elizabeth's 
service  ;  and  that  garrisons  were  to  be  forced  upon  Bally- 
shannon  and  Belleek,  commanding  the  passes  into  Tyrcon- 
nell,  between  Lough  Erne  and  the  sea.  The  strong  fortress 
of  Portmore  also,  on  the  southern  bank  of  the  Blackwater, 
was  to  be  strengthened  and  well  manned ;  thus  forming, 
with  Newry  and  Greencastle,  a  chain  of  forts  across  the 
island,  and  a  basis  for  future  operations  against  the  north." 


CHAPTER  XLII. 

O'NEILL  IN  ARMS  FOR  IRELAND.     CLONTIBRET  AND 
BEAL-AN-ATHA-BUIE. 

^^fi^^HERE  was  no  misunderstanding  all  this.  "It 
^  was  clear  that,  let  King  Philip  send  his  promised 
aid,  or  send  it  not,  open  and  vigorous  resistance 
must  be  made  to  the  further  progress  of  foreign 
power,  or  Ulster  would  soon  become  an  English  province." 
Moreover,  in  all  respects,  save  the  aid  from  Spain,  Hugh 
was  well  forward  in  organization  and  preparation.  A 
great  Northern  Confederacy,  the  creation  of  his  master- 
mind, now  spanned  the  land  from  shore  to  shore,  and 
waited  only  for  him  to  take  his  rightful  place  as  leader, 
and  give  the  signal  for  such  a  war  as  had  not  tried  tire 
strength  of  England  for  two  hundred  years. 

''At  last,"  says  Mitchel,  ''the  time  had  come ;  and  Dun- 
gannon  with  stern  joy  beheld  unfurled  the  royal  standard 
of  O'Xeill,  displaying,  as  it  floated  proudly  on  the  breeze. 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


259 


that  terrible  Med  Might  Hand  upon  its  snow-white  folds, 
waving  defiance  to  the  Saxon  queen,  dawning  like  a  new 
Aurora  upon  the  awakened  children  of  Heremon. 

With  a  strong  body  of  horse  and  foot,  O'Neill  sud- 
denly appeared  upon  the  Blackwater,  stormed  Portmore, 
and  drove  away  its  garrison,  '  as  carefully,'  says  an  *his- 
torian,  '  as  he  would  have  driven  poison  from  his  heart ; ' 
then  demolished  the  fortress,  burned  down  the  bridge, 
and  advanced  into  O'Reilly's  country,  everywhere  driving 
the  English  and  their  adherents  before  him  to  the  south 
(but  without  wanton  bloodshed,  slaying  no  man  save  in 
battle,  for  cruelty  is  nowhere  charged  against  O'Neill) ; 
and,  finally,  with  Mac  Guire  and  Mac  Mahon,  he  laid 
close  siege  to  Monaghan,  which  was  still  held  for  the 
queen  of  England.  O'Donnell,  on  his  side,  crossed  the 
Saimer  at  the  head  of  his  fierce  clan,  burst  into  Con- 
naught,  and  shutting  up  Bingham's  troops  in  their  strong 
places  at  Sligo,  Ballymote,  Tulsk,  and  Boyle,  traversed 
the  country  with  avenging  fire  and  sword,  putting  to 
death  every  man  who  could  si^eak  no  Irish^  ravaging  their 
lands,  and  sending  the  spoil  to  Tyrconnell.  Then  he 
crossed  the  Shannon,  entered  the  Annally's,  where  O'Fer- 
ghal  was  living  under  English  dominion,  and  devastated 
that  country  so  furiously,  that  'the  whole  firmament; 
says  the  chronicle,  '  was  one  black  cloud  of  smoke/ 

This  rapidity  of  action  took  the  English  at  complete 
disadvantage.  They  accordingly  (merely  to  gain  time) 
feigned  a  great  desire  to  "  treat "  with  the  two  Hughs. 
Perhaps  those  noble  gentlemen  had  been  wronged.  If  so, 
the  queen's  tender  heart  yearned  to  have  them  reconciled : 
and  so  forth.  Hugh,  owing  to  his  court  training,  under- 
stood this  kind  of  thing  perfectly.  It  did  not  impose  upon 
him  for  a  moment ;  yet  he  consented  to  give  audience  to 
the  royal  commissioners,  whom  he  refused  to  see  excei)t 
at  the  head  of  his  army,    nor  would  he  enter  any  wulied 


THE  STOBY  OF  TBELANT>. 


town  as  liege  nuiu  oi*  the  queen  of  England."'  "So  tliey 
met,"  we  are  told,  "  in  the  open  plain,  in  the  presence  of 
both  armies."  The  conditions  of  peace  demanded  by 
Hugh  were :  — 

1.  Complete  cessation  of  attempts  to  disturb  the  Cath- 
olic Church  in  Ireland. 

2.  No  more  garrisons  —  no  more  sheriffs  or  English 
officials  of  any  sort  soever  to  be  allowed  into  the  Irish 
territories,  which  should  be  unrestrictedly  under  the  juris- 
diction of  their  lawfully  elected  native  chiefs. 

3.  Payment  by  Marshal  Bagnal  to  O'Neill  of  one 
thousand  pounds  of  silver  "as  a  marriage  portion  with 
the  lady  whom  he  had  raised  to  the  dignity  of  an  O'NeilVs 
hrider 

We  may  imagine  how  hard  the  royal  commissioners 
must  have  found  it  to  even  hearken  to  these  propositions, 
especially  this  last  keen  touch  at  Bagnal.  Nevertheless, 
they  were  fain  to  declare  them  reasonable  indeed; 

only  they  suggested  —  merely  recommended  for  consider- 
ation —  tliat  as  a  sort  of  set-off,  the  confederates  might  lay 
down  their  arms,  beg  forgiveness,  and  "discover"  their 
correspondence  with  foreign  states.  Phew  I  Tliere  was  a 
storm  about  their  ears  !  Beg  "  pardon  "  indeed  I  "  Tlie 
rebels  grew  insolent,"  says  Moryson.  Tlie  utmost  that 
could  be  obtained  from  O'Neill  was  a  truce  of  a  few  days' 
duration. 

Early  in  June,  Bagnal  took  tlie  field  with  a  strong 
force,  and  effecting  a  junction  with  Norreys,  made  good 
liis  mareli  from  Dundalk  to  Armagh.  Not  far  from  Mou- 
aghan  is  Clontibret  —  Cluain-Tuberaid,  the  "  Lawn  of  tlie 
Spring."  What  befel  tliere,  I  will  relate  in  the  words  of 
IMr.  Mitchel :  — 

"Tlie  castle  of  Monaghan,  which  had  been  taken  by 
Con  O'Neill,  was  now  once  more  in  the  hands  of  the 
enemy,  and  once  more  was  besieged  by  the  Irish  troops. 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


261 


Norreys,  with  his  whole  force,  was  in  full  march  to  relieve 
it ;  and  O'Neill,  who  had  hitherto  avoided  pitched  battles, 
and  contented  himself  with  harassing  the  enemy  by  contin- 
ual skirmishes  in  their  march  through  the  woods  and  bogs, 
now  resolved  to  meet  this  redoubtable  general  fairly  in 
the  open  field.  He  chose  his  ground  at  Clontibret,  about 
five  miles  from  Monaghan,  where  a  small  stream  runs 
northward  through  a  valley  enclosed  by  low  hills.  On 
the  left  bank  of  this  stream  the  Irish,  in  battle  array, 
awaited  the  approach  of  Norreys.  We  have  no  account 
of  the  numbers  on  each  side,  but  w^hen  the  English  general 
came  up,  he  thought  himself  strong  enough  to  force  a  pas- 
sage. Twice  the  English  infantry  tried  to  make  good 
their  way  over  the  river,  and  twice  were  beaten  back, 
their  gallant  leader  each  time  charging  at  their  head,  and 
being  the  last  to  retire.  The  general  and  his  brother.  Sir 
Thomas,  were  both  wounded  in  these  conflicts,  and  the 
Irish  counted  the  victory  won,  when  a  chosen  body  of 
English  horse,  led  on  by  Segrave,  a  Meathian  oflicer,  of 
gigantic  bone  and  height,  spurred  fiercely  across  the  river, 
and  charged  the  cavalry  of  Tyrowen,  commanded  by  their 
prince  in  person.  Segrave  singled  out  O'Neill,  and  the 
two  leaders  laid  lance  in  rest  for  deadly  combat,  wliile  the 
troops  on  each  side  lowered  their  weapons  and  held  their 
breath,  awaiting  the  shock  in  silence.  The  warriors  met, 
and  the  lance  of  each  was  splintered  on  the  other's  corslet, 
but  Segrave  again  dashed  his  horse  against  the  chief,  flung 
his  giant  frame  against  his  enemy,  and  endeavoured  to 
unhorse  him  by  the  mere  weight  of  his  gauntletted  hand. 
O'Neill  grasped  him  in  his  arms,  and  the  combatants 
rolled  together  in  that  fatal  embrace  to  the  ground :  — 

'  Now,  gallant  Saxon,  hold  thine  own  : 
No  maiden's  arms  are  round  thee  thrown.' 

There  was  one  moment's  deadly  wrestle  and  a  death  groan: 


262 


THE  STORY  OF  IB  ELAND, 


the  shortened  sword  of  O'Neill  was  buried  in  the  English- 
man's groin  beneath  his  mail.  Then  from  the  Irish  ranks 
arose  such  a  wild  shout  of  triumph  as  those  hills  had  never 
echoed  before  —  the  still  thunder-cloud  burst  into  a  tem- 
pest —  those  equestrian  statues  become  as  winged  demons, 
and  with  their  battle  cry  of  Lamh-dearg-ahoo^  and  their 
long  lances  poised  in  Eastern  fashion  above  their  heads, 
down  swept  the  chivalry  of  Tyrowen  upon  the  astonished 
ranks  of  the  Saxon.  The  banner  of  St.  George  wavered 
and  went  down  before  that  furious  charge.  The  English 
turned  their  bridle-reins  and  fled  headlong  over  the  stream, 
leaving  the  field  covered  with  their  dead,  and,  worse  than 
all,  leaving  with  the  Irish  that  proud  red-cross  banner,  the 
first  of  its  disgraces  in  those  Ulster  wars.  Norreys  hastily 
retreated  southwards,  and  the  castle  of  Monaghan  was 
yielded  to  the  Irish." 

This  was  opening  the  campaign  in  a  manner  truly 
worthy  of  a  royal  O'Neill.  The  flame  thus  lighted  spread 
all  over  the  northern  land.  Success  shone  on  the  Irish 
banners,  and  as  the  historian  informs  ns,  "at  the  close  of 
the  year  1595,  the  Irish  power  predominated  in  Ulster  and 
Connaught." 

The  proceedings  of  the  next  two  j^ears  — 1596  and  1597 
—  during  which  the  struggle  was  varied  by  several  efforts 
at  negotiation,  occupy  too  large  a  portion  of  history  to  be 
traced  at  length  in  these  pages.  The  English  forces  were 
being  steadily  though  slowly  driven  in  upon  the  Pale  from 
nearly  all  sides,  and  strenuous  efforts  were  made  to  induce 
O'Neill  to  accept  terms.  He  invariably  professed  the  ut- 
most readiness  to  do  so  ;  deplored  the  stern  necessity  that 
had  driven  him  to  claim  his  rights  in  the  field,  and  debated 
conditions  of  peace  ;  but,  either  mistrusting  the  designs  of 
the  English  in  treating  with  him,  or  because  he  had  hopes 
far  beyond  anything  they  were  likely  to  concede,  he  man- 
aged so  that  the  negotiations  somehow  fell  through  at  all 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


263 


times.  On  one  occasion  royal  commissioners  actually  fol- 
lowed and  chased  him  through  the  country  with  a  royal 
''pardon"  and  treaty,  which  they  were  beseeching  him  to 
accept,  but  O'Neill  continued  to  "  miss  "  all  appointments 
with  them.  More  than  once  the  English  bitterly  felt  that 
their  quondam  pupil  was  feathering  his  keenest  arrows 
against  them  with  plumes  plucked  from  their  own  wing ! 
But  it  was  not  in  what  they  called  diplomacy "  alone 
Hugh  showed  them  to  their  cost  that  he  had  not  forgot- 
ten his  lessons.  He  could  enliven  the  tedium  of  a  siege 
—  and,  indeed,  terminate  it  —  by  a  ruse  worthy  of  an 
humorist  as  of  a  strategist.  On  the  expiration  of  one  of 
the  truces,  we  are  told,  he  attacked  Norreys'  encampment 
with  great  fury,  ''and  drove  the  Englisli  before  him  with 
heavy  loss  till  they  found  shelter  within  the  walls  of 
Armagh."  He  sat  down  before  the  town  and  began  a 
regular  siege  ;  "but  the  troops  of  Ulster  were  unused  to  a 
war  of  posts,  and  little  skilled  in  reducing  fortified  places 
by  mines,  blockades,  or  artillerj'.  They  better  loved  a 
rushing  charge  in  the  open  field,  or  the  guerilla  warfare  of 
the  woods  and  mountains,  and  soon  tired  of  sitting  idly 
before  battlements  of  stone.  O'Neill  tried  a  stratagem. 
General  Norreys  had  sent  a  quantity  of  provisions  to  re- 
lieve Armagh  under  a  convo}'  of  three  companies  of  foot 
and  a  body  of  cavalry,  and  the  Irish  had  surprised  these 
troops  by  night,  captured  the  stores,  and  made  prisoners 
of  all  the  convoy.  O'Neill  caused  the  English  soldiers  to 
be  stripped  of  their  uniform,  and  an  equal  number  of  his 
own  men  to  be  dressed  in  it,  whom  he  ordered  to  appear  by 
daybreak  as  if  marching  to  relieve  Armagh.  Then,  having 
stationed  an  ambuscade  before  morning  in  the  walls  of  a 
ruined  monastery  lying  on  the  eastern  side  of  the  city,  he 
sent  another  body  of  troops  to  meet  the  red-coated  gallow- 
glasses,  so  that  when  day  dawned  the  defenders  of  Armagh 
beheld  what  they  imagined  to  be  a  strong  body  of  tlieir 


264 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


countrymen  in  full  march  to  relieve  them  with  supplies  of 
provisions,  then  they  saw  O'Neill's  troops  rush  to  attack 
these,  and  a  furious  conflict  seemed  to  proceed,  but  appar- 
ently the  English  were  overmatched,  many  of  them  fell, 
and  the  Irish  were  pressing  forward,  pouring  in  their  shot 
and  brandishing  their  battle-axes  with  all  the  tumult  of  a 
deadly  fight.  The  hungry  garrison  could  not  endure  this 
sight.  A  strong  sallying  party  issued  from  the  city  and 
rushed  to  support  their  friends;  but  when  they  came  to 
the  field  of  battle  all  the  combatants  on  both  sides  turned 
their  weapons  against  them  alone. 

"  The  English  saw  the  snare  that  had  been  laid  for 
them,  and  made  for  the  walls  again  ;  but  Con  O'Neill  and 
his  party  issued  from  the  monastery  and  barred  their  re- 
treat. They  defended  themselves  gallantly,  but  were  all 
cut  to  pieces,  and  the  Irish  entered  Armagh  in  triumph. 
Stafford  and  the  remnant  of  his  garrison  were  allowed  to 
retire  to  Dundalk,  and  O'Neill,  who  wanted  no  strong 
places,  dismantled  the  fortifications  and  then  abandoned 
the  town." 

Over  several  of  the  subsequent  engagements  in  1596 
and  1597  I  must  pass  rapidly,  to  reach  the  more  impor- 
tant events  in  which  the  career  of  O'Neill  culminated  and 
closed.  My  young  readers  can  trace  for  themselves  on 
the  page  of  Irish  history  the  episodes  of  valour  and  patri- 
otism that  memorise  "  Tyrrell's  Pass "  and  "  Portmore." 
The  ignis  fatuus  of  "  aid  from  Spain "  was  still  in 
O'Neill's  eyes.  He  was  waiting  —  but  striking  betimes, 
parleying  with  royal  commissioners,  and  corresponding 
with  King  Philip,  when  he  was  not  engaging  Bagnal  or 
Norreys;  Red  Hugh  meanwhile  echoing  in  Connaught 
every  blow  struck  by  O'Neill  in  Ulster.  At  length  in 
the  summer  of  1598,  he  seems  to  have  thrown  aside  all 
reliance  upon  foreign  aid,  and  to  have  organized  his  coun- 
trymen for  a  still  more  resolute  stand  than  any  they  yet 
had  made  against  the  national  enemy. 


THE  STOPiY  OF  IRELAXD. 


265 


'-In  the  month  of  July,  O'Neill  sent  messengers  to 
Phelim  Mac  Hugh,  then  chief  of  the  O'Byrnes,  that  lie 
might  fall  upon  the  Pale,  as  they  were  about  to  make  em- 
ployment in  the  north  for  the  troops  of  Ormond,  and  at 
the  same  time  he  detached  fifteen  hundred  men  and  sent 
them  to  assist  his  ally,  0'More,.who  was  then  besieging 
Porteloise,  a  fort  of  the  English  in  Leix.  Then  he  made 
a  sudden  stoop  upon  the  castle  of  Portmore,  which,  says 
Moryson,  'was  a  great  eye-sore  to  him  lying  upon  the 
chiefe  passage  into  his  country,'  hoping  to  carry  it  by 
assault. 

"  Ormond  now  perceived  that  a  powerful  effort  must  be 
made  by  the  English  to  hold  their  ground  in  the  north,  or 
Ulster  might  at  once  be  abandoned  to  the  Irish.  Strong 
reinforcements  were  sent  from  England,  and  O'Neill's 
spies  soon  brought  him  intelligence  of  large  masses  of 
troops  moving  northward,  led  by  Marshal  Sir  Henry  Bag- 
nal,  and  composed  of  the  choicest  forces  in  the  queen's 
service.  Newry  was  their  place  of  rendezvous,  and  earl}^ 
in  August,  Bagnal  found  himself  at  the  head  of  the 
largest  and  best  appointed  army  of  veteran  Englishmen 
that  had  ever  fought  in  Ireland.  He  succeeded  in  reliev- 
ing Armagh,  and  dislodging  O'Neill  from  his  encampment 
at  Mullaghbane,  where  the  chief  himself  narrowly  es- 
caped being  taken,  and  then  prepared  to  advance  with  his 
whole  army  to  the  Blackwater,  and  raise  the  siege  of 
Portmore.  Williams  and  his  men  were  by  this  time  near- 
ly famished  with  hunger ;  they  had  eaten  all  their  horses, 
and  had  come  to  feeding  on  the  herbs  and  grass  that  grew 
upon  the  walls  of  the  fortress.  And  every  morning  tliey 
gazed  anxiously  over  the  southern  hills,  and  strained  their 
eyes  to  see  the  waving  of  a  red-cross  flag,  or  the  glance  of 
English  spears  in  the  rising  sun. 

"O'Neill  hastily  summoned  O'Donnell  and  Mac  Wil- 
liam to  his  aid,  and  determined  to  cross  the  marshars 


266 


THE  STOBY  OF  IBELAND. 


path,  and  give  him  battle  before  he  reached  the  Black- 
water.  His  entire  force  on  the  day  of  battle,  including 
the  Scots  and  the  troops  of  Connaught  and  Tyrconnell, 
consisted  of  four  thousand  five  hundred  foot  and  six  hun- 
dred horse,  and  Bagnal's  army  amounted  to  an  equal 
number  of  infantry  and  five  hundred  veteran  horsemen, 
sheathed  in  corslets  and  head  pieces,  together  with  some 
field  artillery,  in  which  O'Neill  was  wholly  wanting. 

"Hugh  Roe  O'Donnell  had  snuffed  the  coming  battle 
from  afar,  and  on  the  9th  of  August  joined  O'Neill  with 
the  clans  of  Connaught  and  Tyrconnell.  They  drew  up 
their  main  body  about  a  mile  from  Portmore,  on  the  way 
to  Armagh,  where  the  plain  was  narrowed  to  a  pass,  en- 
closed on  one  side  by  a  thick  wood,  and  on  the  other  by 
a  bog.  To  arrive  at  that  plain  from  Armagh  the  enemy 
would  have  to  penetrate  through  wooded  hills,  divided  by 
winding  and  marshy  hollows,  in  which  flowed  a  sluggish 
and  discoloured  stream  from  the  bogs,  and  hence  the  pass 
was  called  Beal-an-atha-bide^  '  the  mouth  of  the  yelloAV 
ford.'  Fearfasa  O'Clery,  a  learned  poet  of  O'Donnell's, 
asked  the  name  of  that  place,  and  when  he  heard  it,  re- 
membered (and  proclaimed  aloud  to  the  army)  that  St. 
Bercan  had  foretold  a  terrible  battle  to  be  fought  at  a 
yellow  ford,  and  a  glorious  victory  to  be  won  by  the  an- 
cient Irish. 

''Even  so,  Moran,  son  of  Maoin !  and  for  thee,  wisest 
poet,  O'Clery,  thou  hast  this  day  served  thy  country  well, 
for,  to  an  Irish  army,  auguries  of  good  were  more  needful 
than  a  commissariat ;  and  those  bards'  songs,  like  the 
Dorian  flute  of  Greece,  breathed  a  passionate  valour  that 
no  blare  of  English  trumpets  could  ever  kindle. 

''Bagnal's  army  rested  that  night  in  Armagh,  and  the 
Irish  bivouacked  in  the  woods,  each  warrior  covered  by 
his  shaggy  cloak,  under  the  stars  of  a  summer  night,  for 
to  'an  Irish  rebel,'  says  Edmund  Spenser,  Hhe  wood  i- 


THE  STORY  OF  IB  ELAND. 


267 


his  house  agamst  all  weathers,  and  his  mantle  is  his  couch 
to  sleep  in.'  But  O'Neill,  we.  may  well  believe,  slept  not 
that  night  away ;  the  morrow  was  to  put  to  proof  what 
valour  and  discipline  was  in  that  Irish  army,  which  he 
had  been  so  long  organizing  and  training  to  meet  this 
very  hour.  Before  him  lay  a  splendid  army  of  tried  Eng- 
lish troops  in  full  march  for  his  ancient  seat  of  Dungan- 
non,  and  led  on  by  his  mortal  enemy.  And  O'Neill 
would  not  have  had  that  host  weakened  by  the  desertion 
of  a  single  man,  nor  commanded  —  no,  not  for  his  white 
wand  of  chieftaincy  —  by  any  leader  but  this  his  dearest 
foe." 

To  Mr.  Mitchel,  whose  vivid  narrative  I  have  so  far 
been  quoting,  we  are  indebted  for  the  following  stirring 
description  of  O'Neill's  greatest  battle  —  ever  memorable 
Beal-an-atha-huie :  — 

"  The  tenth  morning  of  August  rose  bright  and  serene 
upon  the  towers  of  Armagh  and  the  silver  waters  of 
Avonmore.  Before  day  dawned  the  English  army  left 
the  city  in  three  divisions,  and  at  sunrise  they  were  wind- 
ing through  the  hills  and  woods  behind  the  spot  where 
now  stands  the  little  church  of  Grange. 

The  sun  was  glancing  on  the  corslets  and  spears  of 
their  glittering  cavalry,  their  banners  waved  proudly,  and 
their  bugles  rung  clear  in  the  morning  air,  when,  suddenly, 
from  the  thickets  on  both  sides  of  their  path,  a  deadly 
volley  of  musketry  swept  through  the  foremost  ranks. 
O'Neill  had  stationed  here  five  hundred  light  armed  troops 
to  guard  the  defiles,  and  in  the  shelter  of  thick  groves  of 
fir  trees  they  had  silently  waited  for  the  enemy.  Now 
they  poured  in  their  shot,  volley  after  volley,  and  killed 
great  numbers  of  the  English ;  but  the  first  division,  led 
by  Bagnal  in  person,  after  some  hard  fighting,  carried  the 
pass,  dislodged  the  marksmen  from  their  position,  and 
drove  them  backwards  into  the  plain.    The  centre  divis- 


268 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


iuii  under  Cosby  and  Wingfield,  and  the  rear-guard  led 
by  Cuin  and  Billing,  supported  in  flank  b}^  the  cavalry 
under  Brooke,  JNIontacute,  and  Fleming,  now  pushed  for- 
ward, speedily  cleared  the  difficult  country,  and  formed 
in  the  open  ground  in  front  of  the  Irish  lines.  '  It  was 
not  quite  safe,'  says  an  Irish  chronicler  (in  admiration  of 
Bagnal's  disposition  of  his  forces)  'to  attack  the  nest  of 
griffins  and  den  of  lions  in  which  were  placed  the  soldiers 
of  London.'  Bagnal  at  the  head  of  his  first  division,  and 
aided  by  a  body  of  cavalry,  charged  the  Irish  light-armed 
troops  up  to  the  very  entrenchments,  in  front  of  which 
O'Neill's  foresight  had  prepared  some  pits,  covered  over 
with  wattles  and  grass,  and  many  of  the  English  cavalry 
rushing  impetuously  forward,  rolled  headlong,  both  men 
and  horses,  into  these  trenches  and  perished.  Still  the 
marshal's  chosen  troops,  with  loud  cheers  and  shouts  of 
'  St.  George  for  merry  England ! '  resolutely  attacked  the 
entrenchment  that  stretched  across  the  j)ass,  battered 
them  with  cannon,  and  in  one  place  succeeded,  though 
with  heavy  loss,  in  forcing  back  their  defenders.  Then 
first  the  main  body  of  O'Neill's  troops  was  brought  into 
action,  and  with  bagpipes  sounding  a  charge,  they  fell 
upon  the  English,  shouting  their  fierce  battle-cries,  Lamh- 
dearg  I  and  O'Donnell  aboo  !  O'Neill  himself,  at  the  head 
of  a  body  of  horse,  pricked  forward  to  seek  out  Bagnal 
amidst  the  throng  of  battle,  but  they  never  met :  the  mar- 
shal, who  had  done  his  devoir  that  day  like  a  good  soldier, 
was  shot  through  the  brain  by  some  unknown  marksman. 
The  division  he  had  led  was  forced  back  by  the  furious 
onslaught  of  the  Irish,  and  put  to  utter  rout ;  and,  what 
added  to  their  confusion,  a  cart  of  gunpowder  exploded 
amidst  the  English  ranks  and  blew  many  of  their  men  to 
atoms.  And  now  the  cavahy  of  Tyrconnell  and  Tyrowen 
dashed  into  the  plain  and  bore  down  the  remnant  of 
Brooke's  and  Fleming's  horse;  the  columns  of  Wing- 


fBE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


269 


field  and  Cosby  reeled  before  tlieir  rushing  charge  — 
while  in  front,  to  the  war-cry  of  Bataillah-aboo !  the 
swords  and  axes  of  the  heavy  armed  gallowglasses  were 
raging  amongst  the  Saxon  ranks.  By  this  time  the  can- 
non were  all  taken  ;  the  cries  of  '  St.  George  '  had  failed, 
or  turned  into  death-shrieks ;  and  once  more,  England's 
royal  standard  sunk  before  the  Red  Hand  of  Tyro  wen." 

Twelve  thousand  gold  pieces,  thirty-four  standards,  and 
all  the  artillery  of  the  vanquished  army  were  taken. 
Nearly  three  thousand  dead  were  left  by  the  English  on 
the  field.  The  splendid  army  of  the  Pale  was,  in  fact, 
annihilated. 

Beal-an-atha-buie,  or,  as  some  of  the  English  chroniclers 
call  it,  Blackwater,  may  be  classed  as  one  of  the  great 
battles  of  the  Irish  nation  ;  perhaps  the  greatest  fought  in 
the  course  of  the  war  against  English  invasion.  Other 
victories  as  brilliant  and  complete  may  be  found  recorded 
in  our  annals ;  manj^  defeats  of  English  armies  as  utter 
and  disastrous  ;  but  most  of  these  were,  in  a  military  point 
of  view,  not  to  be  ranked  for  a  moment  with  the  Yellow 
Ford."  Very  nearly  all  of  them  were  defile  surprises, 
conducted  on  the  simplest  principles  of  warfare  common 
to  struggles  in  a  mountainous  country.  But  Beal-an-atha- 
buie  was  a  deliberate  engagement,  a  formidable  pitched 
battle  between  the  largest  and  the  best  armies  which 
England  and  Ireland  respectively  were  able  to  send  forth, 
and  was  fought  out  on  principles  of  military  science  in 
which  both  O'Neill  and  Bagnal  were  proficients.  It  was 
a  fair  stand-up  fight  between  the  picked  troops  and  chosen 
generals  of  the  two  nations  ;  and  it  must  be  told  of  the 
vanquished  on  that  day,  that,  though  defeated,  they  were 
not  dishonoured.  The  Irish  annals  and  chants,  one  and 
all,  do  justice  to  the  daring  bravery  and  unflinching  en- 
durance displayed  by  Bagnal's  army  on  the  disastrous 
battle-field  of  Beal-an-atha-buie. 


270 


THE  ST  OUT  OF  IB  EL  AND. 


As  might  be  supposed,  a  victory  so  considerable  as  this 
has  been  sung  by  a  hundred  bards.  More  than  one 
notable  poem  in  the  native  Gaelic  has  celebrated  its  glory ; 
and  quite  a  number  of  our  modern  bards  have  made  it  the 
theme  of  stirring  lays.  Of  these  latter,  probably  the  best 
known  is  Drennan's  ballad,  from  Avhich  I  quote  the  open- 
ing and  concluding  verses  :  — 

"  By  O'Neill  close  beleaguer'd,  the  spirits  might  droop 
Of  the  Saxon  three  hundred  shut  up  in  their  coop, 
Till  Bagnal  drew  forth  his  Toledo,  and  swore 
On  the  sword  of  a  soldier  to  succour  Portmore. 

His  veteran  troops,  in  the  foreign  wars  tried, 

Their  features  how  bronz*d,  and  how  haughty  their  stride, 

Step'd  steadily  on ;  it  was  thrilling  to  see 

That  thunder-cloud  brooding  o'er  Beal-an-atha-Buidh  ! 

"  The  flash  of  their  armour,  inlaid  with  fine  gold, 
Gleaming  matchlocks  and  cannons  that  mutteringly  roU'd, 
With  the  tramp  and  the  clank  of  those  stern  cuirassiers, 
Dyed  in  blood  of  the  Flemish  and  French  cavaliers. 


"  Land  of  Owen  aboo !  and  the  Irish  rushed  on  : 
The  foe  fir'd  but  one  volley  —  their  gunners  are  gone. 
Before  the  bare  bosoms  the  steel  coats  have  fled, 
Or,  despite  casque  or  corslet,  lie  dying  or  dead. 

And  brave  Harry  Bagnal,  he  fell  while  he  fought, 
With  many  gay  gallants :  they  slept  as  men  ought. 
Their  faces  to  Heaven  :  there  were  others,  alack  ! 
By  pikes  overtaken,  and  taken  aback. 

And  the  Irish  got  clothing,  coin,  colours,  great  store. 

Arms,  forage,  and  provender  —  plunder  go  leov. 

They  munch'd  the  white  manchets,  they  champ'd  the  brown  chine, 

Fuliluah  for  that  day,  how  the  natives  did  dine  I 

"  The  chieftain  looked  on,  when  O'Shanagan  rose, 
And  cried :  *  Hearken,  O'Neill,  I 've  a  health  to  propose  — . 
To  our  Sassenach  hosts,'  and  all  quaffed  in  luige  glee. 
With  Cead  mUe  failte  yo  !  Beai.-ax-atha-buidh  I  " 


TUP.  sTonr  OP  tb eland. 


m 


The  same  subject  has  been  the  inspiration  of,  perhaps, 
the  most  beautiful  poem  in  Mr.  Aubrey  de  Vere's  Lyrical 
Chronicle  of  Ireland  :  — 

THE  WAR-SONG  OF  TYRCONNELL'S  BARD  AT  THE 
BATTLE  OF  BLACKWATER. 

Glory  to  God,  and  to  the  Powers  that  fight 

For  Freedom  and  the  Right ! 
We  have  them  then,  the  invaders  !  there  they  stand 
Once  more  on  Oriel's  land ! 
They  have  pass'd  the  gorge  stream  cloven, 

And  the  mountain's  purple  bound  ; 
Now  the  toils  are  round  them  woven, 
Now  the  nets  are  spread  around ! 
Give  them  time  :  their  steeds  are  blown ; 
Let  them  stand  and  round  them  stare, 
Breathing  blasts  of  Irish  air  : 
Our  eagles  know  their  own  ! 

Thou  rising  sun,  fair  fall 

Thy  greeting  on  Armagh's  time-honoured  wall 

And  on  the  willows  hoar 

That  fringe  thy  silver  waters,  Avonmore  ! 

See !  on  that  hill  of  drifted  sand 

The  far-famed  marshal  holds  command, 

Bagnal,  their  bravest :  —  to  the  right, 

That  recreant,  neither  chief  nor  knight, 

"  The  Queen's  O'Reilly,"  he  that  sold 

His  country,  clan,  find  church  for  gold  I 

Saint  George  for  England  !  "  —  recreant  crew, 
What  are  the  saints  ye  spurn  to  you? 
They  charge  ;  they  pass  yon  grassy  swell ; 
They  reach  our  pit-falls  hidden  well : 
On  !  —  warriors  native  to  the  sod ! 
Be  on  them,  in  the  power  of  God  ! 


Seest  thou  yon  stream,  whose  tawny  waters  glide 

Through  weeds  and  yellow  marsh  lingeringly  and  slowly  ? 
Blest  is  that  spot  and  holy  1 
There,  ages  past,  Saint  Bercan  stood  and  cried, 
*'This  spot  shall  quell  one  day  th'  invader's  pride  !  " 


272  5rj7J5?  sfoBY  oP  Ireland. 

He  saw  in  mystic  trance 

The  blood-stain  flush  yon  rill : 

On !  —  hosts  of  God,  advance  ! 
Your  country's  fate  fulfil  I 


Hark !  the  thunder  of  their  meeting ! 

Hand  meets  hand,  and  rough  the  greeting ! 

Hark !  the  crash  of  shield  and  brand  ; 

They  mix,  they  mingle,  band  with  band, 

Like  two  tiorn-commingling  stags, 

Wrestling  on  the  mountain  crags, 

Intertwined,  intertangled. 

Mangled  forehead  meeting  mangled ! 

See  !  the  wavering  darkness  through 

I  see  the  banner  of  Red  Hugh ; 

Close  beside  is  thine,  O'Xeill! 

Now  they  stoop  and  now  they  reel, 

Rise  once  more  and  onward  sail, 

Like  two  falcons  on  one  gale! 

O  ye  clansmen  past  me  rushing. 

Like  mountain  torrents  seaward  gushing, 

Tell  the  chiefs  that  from  this  height 

Their  chief  of  bards  beholds  the  fight ; 

That  on  theirs  he  pours  his  spirit ; 

Marks  their  deeds  and  chants  their  merit ; 

While  the  Priesthood  evermore. 

Like  him  that  ruled  God's  host  of  yore, 

With  arms  outstretched  that  God  implore ! 


Glory  be  to  God  on  high  ! 

That  shout  rang  up  into  the  sky ! 

The  plain  lies  bare  ;  the  smoke  drifts  by ; 

Again  that  cry ;  they  fly !  they  fly  ! 

O'er  them  standards  thirty-four 

Waved  at  morn :  they  wave  no  more. 

Glory  be  to  Him  alone  who  holds  the  nations  in  His  hand. 
And  to  them  tlie  heavenly  guardians  of  our  Church  and  native  land! 
Sing,  ye  priests,  your  deep  Te  Deum ;  bards,  make  answer  loud  and 
long, 

In  your  rapture'  flinging  heavenward  censers  of  triumi>lKint  song-. 


TttE  STOltY  OP  UPLAND. 


273 


Isle  for  centuries  blind  in  bondage,  lift  once  more  thine  ancient  boast, 
From  the  cliffs  of  Innishowen  southward  on  to  Carberj^'s  coast ! 
We  have  seen  the  right  made  perfect,  seen  the  Hand  that  rules  the 
spheres. 

Glance  like  lightning  through  the  clouds,  and  backward  roll  the 

wrongful  years. 
Glory  fadeth,  but  this  triumph  is  no  barren  mundane  glory; 
Rays  of  healing  it  shall  scatter  on  the  eyes  that  read  our  story : 
Upon  nations  bound  and  torpid  as  they  waken  it  shall  shine, 
As  on  Peter  in  his  chains  the  angel  shone,  with  light  divine. 
From  th'  unheeding,  from  th'  unholy  it  may  hide,  like  truth,  its  ray; 
But  when  Truth  and  Justice  conquer,  on  their  crowns  its  beams  shall 

play  : 

O'er  the  ken  of  troubled  tyrants  it  shall  trail  a  meteor's  glare  ; 
For  the  blameless  it  shall  glitter  as  the  star  of  morning  fair ; 
Whensoever  Erin  triumphs,  then  its  dawn  it  shall  renew ; 
Then  O'Neill  shall  be  remember 'd,  and  Tirconnell's  chief.  Red 
Hugh ! 

The  fame  of  this  great  victory  filled  the  land.  Not  in 
Ireland  alone  did  it  create  a  sensation.  The  English  his- 
torians tell  us  that  for  months  nothing  was  talked  of  at 
court  or  elsewhere  throughout  England,  but  O'Neill  and 
the  great  battle  on  the  Blackwater,  which  had  resulted  so 
disastrously  for  ''her  Highness."  Moryson  himseli  in- 
forms us  that  "  the  generall  voyce  was  of  Tyrone  amongst 
the  English  after  the  defeat  of  Blackwater,  as  of  Hannibal 
amongst  the  Romans  after  the  defeat  at  Cannse."  The 
event  got  noised  abroad,  too,  and  in  all  the  courts  of 
Europe  Hugh  of  Tyrone  became  celebrated  as  a  military 
commander  and  as  a  patriot  leader. 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELANt), 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 

HOW  HT^GH  F0RMF:D  A  GREAT  NATIONAL  CONFEDERACY 
AND  BUILT  UP  A  NATION  ONCE  MORE  ON  IRISH 
SOIL. 

F  Ulster  was  Ireland,  Ireland  now  was  free.  But 
all  that  has  been  narrated  so  far,  has  affected 
only  half  the  island.  The  south  all  this  time 
lay  in  the  heavy  trance  of  helplessness,  suffering, 
and  despair,  that  had  supervened  upon  the  desolating  Des- 
mond war.  At  best  the  south  was  very  unlikely  to  second 
with  equal  zeal,  energy,  and  success,  such  an  effort  as  the 
north  had  made.  Munster  was  almost  exclusively  pos- 
sessed by  Anglo-Irish  lords,  or  Irish  chiefs  in  the  power 
of,  and  submissive  to,  the  English.  Ulster  was  the  strong- 
hold of  the  native  cause  ;  and  what  was  possible  there 
might  be,  and  in  truth  was,  very  far  from  feasible  in 
the  "colonized"  southern  province.  Nevertheless,  so 
irresistible  was  the  inspiration  of  Hugh's  victories  in  the 
north,  that  even  the  occupied,  conquered,  broken,  divided, 
and  desolated  south  began  to  take  heart  and  look  upward. 
Messengers  were  dispatched  to  Hugh  entreating  him  to 
send  some  duly  authorised  lieutenants  to  raise  the  standard 
of  Church  and  Country  in  Munster,  and  take  charge  of 
the  cause  there.  He  complied  by  detaching  Richard  Tyr- 
rell, of  Fertullah,  and  Owen,  son  of  lluari  O'More,  at  the 
head  of  a  chosen  band,  to  unfurl  the  national  flag  in  the 
southern  provinces.  They  were  enthusiastically  received. 
The  Catholic  Anglo-Norman  lords  and  the  native  chiefs 
entered  into  the  movement,  and  rose  to  arms  on  all  sides. 
The  newly-planted  "settlers,"  or  "undertakers"  as  they 
were  styled  —  (English  adventurers  amongst  whom  had 


mJE  STORY  OF  lUELANT), 


beeu  parcelled  out  the  lands  of  several  southern  Catholic 
families,  lawlessly  seized  on  the  ending  of  the  Desmond 
rebellion)  —  fled  pell  mell,  abandoning  the  stolen  castles 
and  lands  to  their  rightful  owners,  and  only  too  happy  to 
escape  with  life.^  The  Lord  President  had  to  draw  in 
every  outpost,  and  abandon  all  Munster,  except  the  garri- 
son towns  of  Cork  and  Kilmallock,  within  which,  cooped 
up  like  prisoners,  he  and  his  diminished  troops  were  glad 
to  find  even  momentary  shelter.  By  the  beginning  of 
1599,  "  no  English  force  was  able  to  keep  the  field  through- 
out all  Ireland."  CNeilFs  authority  was  paramount  — 
was  loyally  recognized  and  obeyed  everywhere  outside  two 
or  three  garrison  towns.  He  exercised  the  prerogatives  of 
royalty;  issued  commissions,  conferred  offices,  honours, 
and  titles ;  removed  or  deposed  lords  and  chiefs  actively 
or  passively  disloyal  to  the  national  authority',  and  ap- 
pointed others  in  their  stead.  And  all  was  done  so  wisely, 
so  impartially,  so  patriotically  —  with  such  scrupulous  and 
fixed  regard  for  the  one  great  object,  and  no  other  — 
namely,  the  common  cause  of  national  independence  and 
freedom  —  that  even  men  chronically  disposed  to  suspect 
family  or  clan  selfishness  in  every  act,  gave  in  their  full 
confidence  to  him  as  to  a  leader  who  had  completely  sunk 
the  clan  chief  in  the  national  leader.  In  fine,  since  t\\e 
days  of  Brian  the  First,  no  native  sovereign  of  equal  ca- 
pacity —  singularly  qualified  as  a  soldier  and  as  a  states- 
man—  had  been  known  in  Ireland.  ''He  omitted  no 
means  of  strengthening  the  league.  He  renewed  his  inter- 
course with  Spain  ;  planted  permanent  bodies  of  troops 
on  the  Foyle,  Erne,  and  Blackwater ;  engaged  the  services 

1  Amongst  them  was  Spenser,  a  gentle  poet  and  rapacious  freebooter. 
His  poesy  was  sweet,  and  fuU  of  charms,  quaint,  simple,  and  eloquent.  His 
prose  politics  were  brutal,  venal,  and  cowardly.  He  wooed  the  muses  very 
blandly,  living  in  a  stolen  home,  and  philosophically  counselled  the  extir- 
pation of  the  Irish  owners  of  the  land,  for  the  greater  security  of  himself 
and  fellow  adventurers, 

i 


276 


TUK  STOnr  OF  IBFLAy  j). 


of  some  additional  Scots  from  the  Western  Isles,  improved 
the  discipline  of  his  own  troops,  and  on  every  side  made 
preparations  to  renew  the  conflict  witli  Iiis  powerfnl  enemy. 
For  he  well  knew  that  Elizabeth  was  not  the  monarch  to 
quit  her  deadly  gripe  of  this  fair  island  without  a  more 
terrible  struggle  than  had  yet  been  endured."  ^ 

That  struggle  was  soon  inaugurated.  England,  at  that 
time  one  of  the  strongest  nations  in  Europe,  and  a  match 
for  the  best  among  them  by  land  and  sea,  ruled  over  by 
one  of  the  ablest,  the  boldest,  and  most  crafty  sovereigns 
that  had  ever  sat  upon  her  throne,  and  served  by  states- 
men, soldiers,  philosophers,  and  writers,  whose  names  are 
famous  in  history  —  was  now  about  to  put  forth  all  her 
power  in  a  combined  naval  and  military  armament  against 
the  almost  reconstituted,  but  as  yet  all  too  fragile  Irish 
nation.  Such  an  effort,  under  all  the  circumstances,  could 
scarcely  result  otherwise  than  as  it  eventually  did ;  for 
there  are,  after  all,  odds  against  which  no  human  effort 
can  avail  and  for  which  no  human  valour  can  compensate. 
It  was  England's  good  fortune  on  this  occasion,  as  on  oth- 
ers previously  and  subsequently,  that  the  Irish  nation 
challenged  her  when  she  was  at  peace  Avith  all  the  workl 
—  when  her  hands  were  free  and  her  resources  undivided. 
Equally  fortunate  was  she  at  all  times,  on  tlie  other  hand, 
in  the  complete  tranquillity  of  the  Irish  when  desperate 
emergencies  put  her  on  her  own  defence,  and  left  her  no 
resources  to  spare  for  a  campaign  in  Ireland,  had  she  been 
challenged  then.  What  we  have  to  contemplate  in  the 
closing  scenes  of  O'Neill's  glorious  career  is  the  heroism 
of  Thermopylae,  not  the  success  of  Salamis  or  Platsea. 

Elizabeth's  favourite,  Essex,  was  dispatched  to  Ireland 
with  twenty  thousand  men  at  his  back ;  an  army  not  only 
the  largest  England  had  put  into  tlie  field  for  centuries, 


1  Mitchel. 


THE  STORY  OF  IliELAXD. 


277 


but  in  equi})ineiit,  in  drill,  and  in  armament,  the  most 
complete  ever  assembled  under  her  standard.  Against  this 
the  Irish  nowhere  had  ten  thousand  men  concentrated  in 
a  regular  army  or  movable  corps.  In  equipment  and  in 
armament  they  were  sadly  deficient,  while  of  sieging  mate- 
rial they  were  altogether  destitute.  Nevertheless,  we  are 
told  "  O'Neill  and  his  confederates  were  not  dismayed  by 
the  arrival  of  this  great  army  and  its  magnificent  leader." 
And  had  the  question  between  the  two  nations  depended 
solely  upon  such  issues  as  armies  settle,  and  superior  skill 
and  prowess  control,  neither  O'Neill  nor  his  confederates 
would  have  erred  in  the  strong  faith,  the  high  hope,  the 
exultant  self-reliance,  that  now  animated  them.  The  cam- 
paign of  1599  —  the  disastrous  failure  of  the  courtly  Essex 
and  his  magnificent  army  —  must  be  told  in  a  few  lines. 
O'Neill  completely  out-generaled  and  overawed  or  over- 
reached the  haughty  deputy.  In  more  than  one  fatal 
engagement  his  splendid  force  was  routed  by  the  Irisli, 
until,  notwithstanding  a  constant  stream  of  reinforce- 
ments from  England,  it  had  wasted  away,  and  was  no 
longer  formidable  in  O'Neill's  eyes.  In  vain  the  queen 
wrote  letter  after  letter  endeavouring  to  sting  her  quon- 
dam favourite  into  "  something  notable  ; "  that  is,  a  victory 
over  O'Neill.  Nothing  could  induce  Essex  to  face  the 
famous  hero  of  Clontibret  and  the  Yellow  Ford,  unless, 
indeed,  in  peaceful  parley.  At  length  having  been  taunted 
into  a  movement  northward,  he  proceeded  thither  reluc- 
tantly and  slowly.  "  On  the  high  ground  north  of  the 
Lagan,  he  found  the  host  of  O'Neill  encamped,  and  re- 
ceived a  courteous  message  from  their  leader,  soliciting 
a  personal  interview.  At  an  appointed  hour  the  two 
commanders  rode  down  to  the  opposite  banks  of  the  river, 
wholly  unattended,  the  advanced  guards  of  each  looking 
curiously  on  from   the   uplands.*'  ^     O'Neill,  ever  the 


1  M'Gee. 


278 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAXD. 


flower  of  courtesy,  spurred  his  horse  into  the  stream  up 
to  the  saddlegirths.  First  they  had  a  private  confer- 
ence, in  which  Lord  Essex,  won  by  the  chivalrous  bearing 
and  kindly  address  of  the  chief,  became,  say  the  English 
historians,  too  confidential  with  an  enemy  of  his  sovereign, 
spoke  without  reserve  of  his  daring  hopes  and  most  pri- 
vate thoughts  of  ambition,  until  O'Neill  had  sufficiently 
read  his  secret  soul,  fathomed  his  poor  capacity,  and 
understood  the  full  meanness  of  his  shallow  treason. 
Then  Cormac  O'Neill  and  five  other  Irish  leaders  were 
summoned  on  the  one  side,  on  the  other  Lord  Southamp- 
ton and  an  equal  number  of  English  officers,  and  a  solemn 
parley  was  opened  in  due  form."  ^  O'Neill  offered  terms  : 
"first,  complete  liberty  of  conscience;  second,  irjdemnity 
for  his  allies  in  all  the  four  provinces ;  third,  the  principal 
officers  of  state,  the  judges,  and  one-half  the  army  to  be 
henceforth  Irish  by  birth."  Essex  considered  these  very 
far  from  extravagant  demands  from  a  man  now  virtual!}' 
master  in  the  island.  He  declared  as  much  to  O'Neill,  and 
concluded  a. truce  pending  reply  from  London.  Elizabetli 
saw  in  fury  how  completely  O'Neill  had  dominated  her 
favourite.  She  wrote  him  a  frantic  letter  full  of  scornful 
taunt  and  upbraiding.  Essex  flung  up  all  his  duties  in 
Ireland  without  leave,  and  hurried  to  London,  to  bring 
into  requisition  the  personal  influences  he  had  undoubtedly 
possessed  at  one  time  with  tlie  queen.  But  he  found  lier 
unapproachable.  She  stamped  and  swore  at  him,  and 
ordered  him  to  the  tower,  where  the  unfortunate  earl  paid, 
with  his  head  upon  the  block,  the  forfeit  for  not  having 
grappled  successfully  with  the    Red  Hand  of  Ulster." 

The  year  1600  was  employed  by  O'Neill  in  a  general 
circuit  of  the  kingdom,  for  the  more  complete  establish- 
ment of  the  national  league  and  the  better  organization  of 


1  Mitcbel, 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


279 


the  national  resources.  "  He  marched  through  the  centre 
of  the  island  at  the  head  of  his  troops  to  the  south,"  says 
his  biographer,  a  kind  of  royal  progress,  which  he 
thought  fit  to  call  a  pilgrimage  to  Holy  Cross.  He  held 
princely  state  there,  concerted  measures  with  the  southern 
lords,  and  distributed  a  manifesto  announcing  himself  as 
the  accredited  Defender  of  the  Faith."  '^In  the  begin- 
ning of  March,"  says  another  authority,  '*the  Catholic 
army  halted  at  Inniscarra,  upon  the  river  Lee,  about  five 
miles  west  of  Cork.  Here  O'Neill  remained  three  weeks 
in  camp  consolidating  the  Catholic  party  in  South  Munster. 
During  that  time  he  was  visited  by  the  chiefs  of  the 
ancient  Eugenian  clans  —  O'Donohoe,  O'Donovan,  and 
O'Mahony.  Thither  also  came  two  of  the  most  remark- 
able men  of  the  southern  province :  Florence  McCarthy, 
lord  of  Carbery,  and  Donald  O'SuUivan,  lord  of  Bear- 
haven.  McCarthy,  'like  Saul,  higher  by  the  head  and 
shoulders  than  any  of  his  house,'  had  brain  in  proportion 
to  his  brawn;  O'Sullivan,  as  was  afterwards  shown,  was 
possessed  of  military  virtues  of  a  high  order.  Florence 
was  inaugurated  with  O'Neill's  sanction  as  McCarth}' 
More ;  and  although  the  rival  house  of  Muskerry  fiercely 
resisted  his  claim  to  superiority  at  first,  a  wiser  choice 
could  not  have  been  made  had  the  times  tended  to  con- 
firm it. 

"While  at  Inniscarra,  O'Neill  lost  in  single  combat  one 
of  his  most  accomplished  officers,  the  chief  of  Fermanagh. 
Maguire,  accompanied  only  by  a  priest  and  two  horsemen, 
was  making  observations  nearer  to  the  city  than  the  camp, 
when  Sir  Warham  St.  Leger,  marshal  of  Munster,  issued 
out  of  Cork  with  a  company  of  soldiers,  probably  on  a 
similar  mission.  Both  were  in  advance  of  their  attendants 
when  they  came  unexpectedly  face  to  face.  Both  were 
famous  as  horsemen  and  for  the  use  of  their  weapons,  and 
neither  would  retrace  his  steps.    The  Irish  chief,  poising 


230 


THE  iSTOUY  OF  IRELAND. 


his  spear,  clashed  forward  against  his  opponent,  but  re- 
ceived a  pistol  shot  which  proved  mortal  the  same  day. 
He,  however,  had  strength  enough  left  to  drive  his  spear 
through  the  neck  of  St.  Leger,  and  to  effect  his  escape 
from  the  English  cavalry.  St.  Leger  was  carried  back  to 
Cork,  where  he  expired.  Maguire,  on  reaching  the  camp, 
had  barely  time  left  to  make  his  last  confession  when  he 
breathed  his  last.  This  untoward  event,  the  necessity  of 
preventing  possible  dissensions  in  Fermanagh,  and  still 
more  the  menacing  movements  of  the  new  deputy,  lately 
sworn  in  at  Dublin,  obliged  O'Neill  to  return  home  earlier 
than  he  intended.  Soon  after  reaching  Dungannon  he 
had  the  gratification  of  receiving  a  most  gracious  letter 
from  Pope  Clement  the  Eighth,  together  with  a  crown  of 
phoenix  feathers,  symbolical  of  the  consideration  with 
which  he  was  regarded  by  the  Sovereign  Pontiff."  ^ 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 

how  the  keconstructed  ikish  nation  was  over- 
borne, how  the  two  hughs  ''fought  back  to 
back"  against  their  overwhelming  foes,  how 
the  "  spanish  aid  "  ruined  the  irish  cause.  the 
disastrous  battle  of  kinsale. 

^^^^^HERE  now  appear  before  us  two  remarkable 
men  whose  names  are  prominently  identified 
with  this  memorable  epoch  in  Irish  history  — 
Mountjoy,  the  new  lord  deputy ;  and  Carew, 
the  new  lord  president  of  Munster.    In  the  hour. in  which 


1  M'Goe. 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAXD, 


281 


these  men  were  appointed  to  the  conduct  of  affairs  in 
Irehmd,  the  Irish  cause  was  lost.  Immense  resources 
were  placed  at  their  disposal,  new  levies  and  armaments 
were  ordered;  and  again  all  tlie  might  of  England  by 
land  and  sea  was  to  be  put  forth  against  Ireland.  But 
Mountjoy  and  Carew  alone  were  worth  all  the  levies. 
They  were  men  of  indomitable  energy,  masters  of  subtle- 
ty, craft,  and  cunning,  utterly  unscrupulous  as  to  the 
employment  of  means  to  an  end ;  cold-blooded,  callous, 
cruel,  and  brutal.  Norreys  and  Bagnal  Avere  soldiers  — 
able  generals,  illustrious  in  the  field.  Essex  was  a  lordly 
courtier,  vain  and  pomp-loving.  Of  these  men  —  soldier 
and  courtier  —  the  Irish  annals  speak  as  of  fair  foes.  But 
of  Mountjoy  and  Carew  a  different  memory  is  kept  in 
Ireland.  They  did  their  work  by  the  wile  of  the  serpent, 
not  by  the  skill  of  the  soldier.  Where  the  brave  and 
manly  Norreys  tried  the  sword,  they  tried  snares,  treach- 
ery, and  deceit,  gold,  flattery,  promises,  temptation,  and 
seduction  in  every  shape.  To  split  up  the  confederation 
of  chiefs  was  an  end  towards  which  they  steadily  laboured 
by  means  the  most  subtle  and  crafty  that  human  ingenuity 
could  devise.  Letters,  for  instance,  were  forged  purport- 
ing to  have  been  written  secretly  to  the  lord  deputy  by 
the  Earl  of  Desmond,  offering  to  betray  one  of  his  fellow 
confederates,  O'Connor.  These  forgeries  were  "dis- 
closed," as  it  were,  to  O'Connor,  with  an  offer  that  he 
should  forestal "  the  earl,  by  seizing  and  giving  up  the 
latter  to  the  government,  for  which,  moreover,  he  was  to 
have  a  thousand  pounds  in  hand,  besides  other  considera- 
tions promised.  Tlie  plot  succeeded.  O'Coinior  betrayed 
the  earl  and  handed  him  over  a  prisoner  to  the  lord 
deputy,  and  of  course  going  over  himself  as  an  ally  also. 
This  rent  worked  the  dismemberment  of  the  leaonie  in  the 
south.  Worse  defections  followed  soon  after;  defections 
unaccountable,  and,  indeed,  irretrieval)le.   Art  0  Neill  and 


282 


THE  STORY  OF  IBELAM). 


Nial  Garv  O'Doniiell,  under  the  operation  of  mybterious 
influences,  went  over  to  the  English,  and  in  all  the  subse- 
quent events,  were  more  active  and  effective  than  any 
other  commanders  on  the  queen's  side  I  Nial  Garv  alone 
was  worth  a  host.  He  was  one  of  the  ablest  generals  in 
the  Irish  camp.  His  treason  fell  upon  the  national  leaders 
like  a  thunderbolt.  This  was  the  sort  of  ''campaigning", 
on  which  Mountjoy  relied  most.  Time  and  money  were 
freely  devoted  to  it,  and  not  in  vain.  After  the  national 
confederation  had  been  sufficiently  split  up  and  weakened 
in  this  way  —  and  when,  north  and  south,  the  defecting 
chiefs  were  able  of  themselves  to  afford  stiff  employment 
for  the  national  forces,  the  lord  deputy  took  the  field. 

In  the  struggle  that  now  ensued  O'Neill  and  O'Donnell 
presented  one  of  those  spectacles  which,  according  to  the 
language  of  the  heathen  classics,  move  gods  and  men  to 
sympathy  and  admiration  I  Hearts  less  brave  might  de- 
spair; but  thei/^  like  Leonidas  and  the  immortal  Three 
Hundred,  would  fight  out  the  battle  of  country  while  life 
remained.  The  English  now  had  in  any  one  province  a 
force  superior  to  the  entire  strength  of  the  national  army. 
The  eventful  campaign  of  1601,  we  are  told,  was  fought 
out  in  almost  every  part  of  the  kingdom.  To  hold  the 
coast  lines  on  the  north  —  where  Dowcra  had  landed  (at 
Derry)  four  thousand  foot  and  four  hundred  horse  — was 
the  task  of  O'Donnell ;  while  to  defend  the  southern 
Ulster  frontier  was  the  peculiar  charge  of  O'Neill.  "  They 
thus,"  says  the  historian,  ''fought  as  it  were  back  to  back 
against  the  opposite  lines  of  attack.''  Through  all  the 
spring  and  summer  months  that  fight  went  on.  From  hill 
to  valley,  from  pass  to  plain,  all  over  the  island,  it  was 
one  roll  of  cannon  and  musketry,  one  ceaseless  and  uni- 
versal engagement;  the  smoke  of  battle  never  lifted  off* 
the  scene.  The  two  Hughs  w*ere  all  but  ubiquitous  ;  con- 
ivonting  and  defeating  an  attack  to-dny  ut  one  point;  fall- 


THE  STOBY  OF  IB  EL  AX  D. 


283 


ing  upon  the  foes  next  day  at  another  far  distant  from 
the  scene  of  the  h\st  encounter  I  Between  the  two  chiefs 
the  most  touching  confidence  and  devoted  affection  sub- 
sisted. Let  the  roar  of  battle  crash  how  it  might  on  the 
northern  horizon,  O'Xeill  relied  that  all  was  well,  for 
O'Donnell  was  at  his  post.  No  matter  what  myriads  of 
foes  were  massing  in  the  south,  it  was  enough  for  O'Don- 
nell to  know  that  O'Xeill  was  there.  Back  to  back,'' 
indeed,  as  many  a  brave  battle  against  desperate  odds  has 
been  fought,  they  maintained  the  unequal  combat,  giving 
blow  for  blow,  and  so  far  holding  their  ground  right 
nobly.  By  September,  except  in  Munster,  comparatively 
little  had  been  gained  by  the  English  beyond  the  success- 
ful planting  of  some  further  garrisons;  but  the  Irish  w^ere 
considerably  exhausted,  and  sorely  needed  rest  and  recruit- 
ment. At  this  juncture  came  the  exciting  new^s  that  — 
at  length  I — a  powerful  auxiliary  force  from  Spain  had 
landed  at  Kinsale.  The  Anglo-Irish  privy  council  were 
startled  by  the  new^s  while  assembled  in  deliberation  at 
Kilkenny.  Instantly  they  ordered  a  concentration  of  all 
their  available  forces  in  the  south,  and  resolved  upon  a 
winter  campaign.  They  acted  with  a  vigour  and  determi- 
nation which  plainly  showed  their  conviction  that  on  the 
quick  crushing  of  the  Spanish  force  hung  the  fate  of  their 
cause  in  Ireland.  A  powerful  fleet  was  sent  round  the 
coast,  and  soon  blockaded  Kinsale ;  while  on  the  land 
side  it  was  invested  by  a  force  of  some  fifteen  thousand 
men. 

This  Spanish  expedition,  meant  to  aid,  effected  the  ruin 
of  the  Irish  cause.  It  consisted  of  little  more  than  three 
thousand  men,  with  a  good  supply  of  stores,  arms,  and 
ammunition.  In  all  his  letters  to  Spain,  O'Neill  is  said  to 
have  strongly  urged  that  if  a  force  under  five  thousand 
men  came,  it  should  land  in  Ulster,  where  it  would  be 
morally  and  materially  worth  ten  thousand  landed  else- 


284  THE  sTonr  of  ihelanb. 

where  ;  but  that  if  Minister  was  to  be  the  point  of  de- 
barkation, anything  less  than  eight  or  ten  thousand  men 
would  be  useless.  The  meaning  of  this  is  easily  discerned. 
The  south  was  the  strong  ground  of  the  English,  as  the 
north  was  of  the  Irish  side.  A  force  landed  in  Munster 
should  be  able  of  itself  to  cope  with  the  strong  opposition 
which  it  was  sure  to  encounter.  These  facts  were  not 
altogether  lost  sight  of  in  Spain.  The  expedition  as  fitted 
out  consisted  of  six  thousand  men ;  but  various  mishaps 
and  disappointments  reduced  it  to  half  the  number  by  the 
time  it  landed  at  Kinsale.  Worse  than  all,  the  wrong 
man  commanded  it ;  Don  Juan  D'Aquilla,  a  good  soldier, 
but  utterly  unsuited  for  an  enterprise  like  this.  He  was 
proud,  sour-tempered,  hasty,  and  irascible.  He  had  heard 
nothing  of  the  defections  and  disasters  in  the  south.  The 
seizure  of  Desmond  and  the  ensnaring  of  Florence  McCar- 
thy —  the  latter  the  most  influential  and  powerful  of  the 
southern  nobles  and  chiefs  —  had  paralysed  everything 
there;  and  Don  Juan,  instead  of  finding  himself  in  the 
midst  of  friends  in  arms,  found  himself  surrounded  by  foes 
on  land  and  sea.  He  gave  way  to  his  natural  ill-temper 
in  reproaches  and  complaints ;  and  in  letters  to  O'Neill, 
bitterly  demanded  whether  he  and  the  other  confederates 
meant  to  hasten  to  his  relief.  For  O'Neill  and  O'Donnell, 
w^ith  their  exhausted  and  weakened  troops  to  abandon  the 
north  and  undertake  a  winter  march  southward,  was  plain 
destruction.  At  least  it  staked  everytking  on  the  single 
issue  of  success  or  defeat  before  Kinsale ;  and  to  prevent 
defeat  and  to  insure  success  there,  much  greater  organiza- 
tion for  cooperation  and  concert,  and  much  more  careful 
preparation,  w^ere  needed  than  was  possible  now,  hurried 
southward  in  this  way  by  D'Aquilla.  Nevertheless,  there 
was  nothing  else  for  it.  O'Neill  clearly  discerned  that 
tlie  crafty  and  politic  Carew  liad  been  insidiously  work- 
ing on  the  Spanish  connnandcr,  to  disgust  him  with  the 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELANt). 


285 


enterprise,  and  induce  him  to  sail  homeward  on  liberal 
terms.  And  it  was  so.  Don  Juan,  it  is  said,  agreed, 
or  intimated  that  if,  within  a  given  time,  an  Irish  army 
did  not  appear  to  his  relief,  he  would  treat  with  Carew 
for  terms.  If  it  was,  therefore,  probable  disaster  for 
O'Neill  to  proceed  to  the  south,  it  was  certain  ruin  for 
him  to  refuse ;  so  with  heavy  hearts  the  northern  chief- 
tains set  out  on  their  winter  march  for  Munster,  at  the 
head  of  their  thinned  and  wasted  troops.  "  O'Donnell, 
with  his  habitual  ardour,  was  first  on  the  way.  He  was 
joined  by  Felim  O'Doherty,  MacSwiney-na-Tuath,  O'Boyle, 
O'Rorke,  the  brother  of  O'Connor  Sligo,  the  O'Connor 
Roe,  Mac  Dermott,  O'Kelly,  and  others ;  mustering  in  all 
about  two  thousand  five  hundred  men."  O'Neill,  with 
MacDonnell  of  Antrim,  Mac  Gennis  of  Down,  MacMahon 
of  Monaghan,  and  others  of  his  suffragans,  marched 
southward  at  the  head  of  between  three  and  four  thou- 
sand men.  Holy  Cross  was  the  point  where  both  their 
forces  appointed  to  effect  their  junction.  O'Donnell  was 
first  at  the  rendezvous.  A  desperate  effort  on  the  part  of 
Carew  to  intercept  and  overwhelm  him  before  O'Neill 
could  come  up,  was  defeated  only  by  a  sudden  night-march' 
of  nearly  forty  miles  by  Red  Hugh.  O'Neill  reached 
Belgooley,  within  sight  of  Kinsale,  on  the  21st  December. 

In  Munster,  in  the  face  of  all  odds  —  amidst  the  wreck 
of  the  national  confederacy,  and  in  the  presence  of  an 
overwhelming  army  of  occupation  —  a  few  chiefs  there 
were,  undismayed  and  unfaltering,  who  rallied  faithfully 
at  the  call  of  duty.  Foremost  amongst  these  was  Donal 
O'SuUivan,  Lord  of  Bear,  a  man  in  whose  fidelity,  intre- 
pidity, and  military  ability,  O'Neill  appears  to  have  reposed 
unbounded  confidence.  In  all  the  south,  the  historian 
tells  us,  "only  O'SuUivan  Beare,  O'Driscoll,  and  O'Con- 
nor Kerry  declared  openly  for  the  national  cause  "  in  this 
momentous  crisis.    Some  of  the  missing  ships  of  the 


f>8f5 


THE  STOIiY  OF  IRELANJK 


Spanish  expedition  reached  Castlehaven  in  November, 
just  as  O'Donnell,  who  had  made  a  detour  westward, 
reached  that  place.  Some  of  this  Spanish  contingent 
were  detailed  as  garrisons  for  the  forts  of  Dunboy,  Balti- 
more, and  Castlehaven,  commanding  three  of  the  best 
havens  in  Munster.  The  rest  joined  O'Donnell's  division, 
and  which  soon  sat  down  before  Kinsale. 

When  O'Neill  came  up,  his  master-mind  at  once  scanned 
the  whole  position,  and  quickly  discerned  the  true  policy 
to  be  pursued.  The  English  force  was  utterly  failing  in 
commissariat  arrangements  ;  and  disease  as  well  as  hunger 
was  committing  rapid  havoc  in  the  besiegers'  camp.  O'Neill 
accordingly  resolved  to  besiege  the  besiegers;  to  increase 
their  difficulties  in  obtaining  provision  or  provender,  and  to 
cut  up  their  lines  of  communication.  These  tactics  mani- 
festly offered  every  advantage  to  the  Irish  and  allied  forces, 
and  were  certain  to  work  the  destruction  of  Carew's  army. 
But  the  testy  Don  Juan  could  not  brook  this  slow  and 
cautious  mode  of  procedure.  The  Spaniards  only  felt 
their  own  inconveniences ;  they  were  cut  off  from  escape 
by  sea  by  a  powerful  English  fleet ;  and,"  continues  the 
historian,  "Carew  was  already  practising  indirectly  on 
their  commander  his  '  wit  and  cunning '  in  the  fabrication 
of  rumours  and  the  forging  of  letters.  Don  Juan  wrote 
urgent  appeals  to  the  northern  chiefs  to  attack  the  English 
lines  without  another  day's  delay ;  and  a  council  of  war  in 
the  Irish  camp,  on  the  third  day  after  their  arrival  at  Bel- 
gooley,  decided  that  the  attack  should  be  made  on  the 
morrow."  At  this  council,  so  strongly  and  vehemently 
was  O'Neill  opposed  to  the  mad  and  foolish  policy  of  risk- 
ing an  engagement,  which,  nevertheless,  O'Donnell,  ever 
impetuous,  as  violently  supported,  that  for  the  first  time 
the  two  friends  were  angrily  at  issue,  and  some  writers 
even  allege  that  on  this  occasion  question  was  raised  be- 
tween them  as  to  who  should  assume  command-in-chief  on 


THE  STORT  OF  tnp.iAKn.  287 

the  ttion^oW.  However  this  may  have  been,  it  is  certain 
that  once  the  vote  of  the  council  was  taken,  and  the  decis- 
ion found  to  be  against  him,  O'Neill  loyally  acquiesced  in 
it,  and  prepared  to  do  his  duty. 

"On  the  night  of  the  2d  January  (new  style)  —  24th 
December  old  style,  in  use  among  the  English  —  the  Irish 
army  left  their  camp  in  three  divisions ;  the  vanguard  led 
by  Tyrrell,  the  centre  by  O'Neill,  and  the  rear  by  O'Don- 
nell.  The  night  was  stormy  and  dark,  with  continuous 
peals  and  flashes  of  thunder  and  lightning.  The -guides 
lost  their  way,  and  the  march,  which  even  by  the  most  cir- 
cuitous route  ought  not  to  have  exceeded  four  or  five 
miles,  was  protracted  through  the  whole  night.  At  dawn 
of  day,  O'Neill,  with  whom  were  O'Sullivan  and  O'Campo, 
came  in  sight  of  the  English  lines,  and  to  his  infinite  sur- 
prise found  the  men  under  arms,  the  cavalry  in  troops 
posted  in  advance  of  their  quarters.  O'Donnell's  division 
was  still  to  come  up,  and  the  veteran  earl  now  found  him- 
self in  the  same  dilemma  into  which  Bagnal  had  fallen  at 
the  Yellow  Ford.  His  embarrassment  was  perceived  from 
the  English  camp ;  the  cavalry  were  at  once  ordered  to 
advance.  For  an  hour  O'Neill  maintained  his  ground 
alone ;  at  the  end  of  that  time  he  was  forced  to  retire.  Of 
O'Campo's  800  Spaniards,  40  survivors  were  with  their  gal- 
lant leader  taken  prisoners ;  O'Donnell  at  length  arrived 
and  drove  back  a  wing  of  the  English  cavalry ;  Tyrrell's 
horsemen  also  held  their  ground  tenaciously.  But  the 
route  of  the  centre  proved  irremediable.  Fully  1,200  of 
the  Irish  were  left  dead  on  the  field,  and  every  prisoner 
taken  was  instantly  executed.  On  the  English  side  fell 
Sir  Richard  Graeme ;  Captains  Danvers  and  Godolphin, 
with  several  others,  were  wounded ;  their  total  loss  they 
stated  at  two  hundred,  and  the  Anglo-Irish,  of  whom  they 
seldom  made  count  in  their  reports,  must  have  lost  in  pro- 
portion.   The  earls  of  Thomond  and  Clanricarde  were 


288 


THE  STOUT  OF  IB  EL  AND. 


actively  engaged  with  their  followers,  and  their  loss  could 
hardly  have  been  less  than  that  of  the  English  regulars. 

On  the  night  following  their  defeat,  the  Irish  leaders 
held  council  together  at  Innishannon,  on  the  river  Ban- 
don,  where  it  was  agreed  that  O'Donnell  should  instantly 
take  shipping  for  Spain  to  lay  the  true  state  of  the  contest 
before  Philip  the  Third;  that  O'Sullivan  should  endeavour 
to  hold  his  castle  of  Dunboy,  as  commanding  a  most  im- 
portant harbour ;  that  Rory  O'Donnell,  second  brother  of 
Hugh  Roe,  should  act  as  chieftain  of  Tyrconnell,  and  that 
O'Neill  should  return  into  Ulster  to  make  the  best  defence 
in  his  power.  The  loss  in  men  was  not  irreparable ;  the 
loss  in  arms,  colours,  and  reputation,  was  more  painful  to 
bear,  and  far  more  difficult  to  retrieve."  ^ 


CHAPTER  XLV. 

"THE  LAST  LOUD  OF  BEARA."  HOW  DONAL  OF  DUNBOY 
WAS  ASSIGNED  A  PEEILOUS  PROMINENCE,  AND  NOBLY 
UNDERTOOK  ITS  DUTIES.  HOW  DON  JUAN's  IMBECIL- 
ITY OR  TREASON  RUINED  THE  IRISH  CAUSE. 

ONFESSEDLY  for  none  of  the  defeated  chiefs 
did  the  day's  disaster  at  Kinsale  involve  such 
consequences  as  it  presaged  for  the  three  southern 
leaders  —  O'Sullivan,  O'Driscoll,  and  O'Connor 
Kerry.  The  northern  chieftains  returning  homeward,  re- 
tired upon  and  within  the  strong  lines  of  what  we  may 
call  the  vast  entrenched  camp  of  the  native  cause.  But 


1  M'Gee. 


THE  STORY  OP  IBELANT). 


289 


the  three  southerns  —  who  alone  of  all  their  Munster 
compeers  had  dared  to  take  the  field  against  the  English 
side  in  the  recent  crisis  —  were  left  isolated  in  a  distant 
extremity  of  the  island,  the  most  remote  from  native  sup- 
port or  cooperation,^  left  at  the  mercy  of  Carew,  now  mas- 
ter of  Munster,  and  leader  of  a  powerful  army  flushed 
with  victory.  The  northerns  might  have  some  chance, 
standing  together  and  with  a  considerable  district  almost 
entirely  in  their  hands,  of  holding  out,  or  exacting  good 
terms  as  they  had  done  often  before.  But  for  the  doomed 
southern  chiefs,  if  aid  from  Spain  came  not  soon,  there  was 
literally  no  prospect  but  the  swift  and  immediate  crash  of 
Carew's  vengeance ;  no  hope  save  what  tlie  strong  ram- 
parts of  Dunboy  and  the  stout  heart  of  its  chieftain  might 
encourage  I 

O'Neill,  as  I  have  already  remarked,  had  a  high  opinion 
of  O'Sullivan  —  of  his  devotedness  to  the  national  cause 
—  of  his  prudence,  skill,  foresight,  and  courage.  And  truly 
the  character  of  the  "last  lord  of  Beara  "  as  writ  upon  the 
page  of  history  —  as  depicted  by  contemporary  writers,  as 
revealed  to  us  in  his  correspondence,  and  as  displayed  in 
his  career  and  actions  from  the  hour  when,  at  the  call  of 
duty,  with  nothing  to  gain  and  all  to  peril,  he  committed 
himself  to  the  national  struggle  —  is  one  to  command  re- 
spect, sympathy,  and  admiration.  In  extent  of  territorial 
sway  and  in  "following"  he  was  exceeded  by  many  of  the 
southern  chiefs,  but  his  personal  character  seems  to  have 
secured  for  him  by  common  assent  the  position  amongst 
them  left  vacant  by  the  imprisonment  of  Florence  Mac- 
Carthy,  facile  princeps  among  the  Irish  of  Munster,  now 
fast  held  in  London  Tower.  In  manner,  temperament,  and 
disposition,  O'Sullivan  was  singularly  unlike  most  of  the 
impulsive  ardent  Irish  of  his  time.  He  was  a  man  of  deep, 
quiet,  calm  demeanour ;  grave  and  thoughtful  in  his  man- 
ner, yet  notably  firm  and  inflexible  in  all  that  touched  his 


200 


TIIK  STORY  OF  IRKLAKJ), 


personal  honour,  his  duty  towards  his  people,^  or  his  loy- 
alty to  religion  or  country.  His  family  had  flung  them- 
selves into  the  struggle  of  James  Geraldine,  and  suffered 
the  penalties  that  followed  thereupon.  Early  in  Eliza- 
beth's reign,  Eoghan,  or  Eugene,  styled  by  the  English 
Sir  Owen  O'SuUivan,  contrived  to  possess  himself  of  the 
chieftaincy  and  territory  of  Bear,  on  the  death  of  his 
brother  Donal,  father  of  the  hero  of  Dunboy.  Eugene 
accepted  an  English  title,  sat  in  Lord  Deputy  Perrot's  par- 
liament of  1585,  in  the  records  of  which  we  find  his  name 
duly  registered,  and  took  out  a  "  patent "  in  his  own  name 
for  the  tribe  land.  His  nephew,  young  Donal  —  Doiial 
Mac  Donal  O'Sullivan,  as  he  was  called  —  vehemently 
disputed  the  validity  of  Sir  Owen's  title  to  the  lands,  and 
after  a  lengthy  law-suit,  a  letter  of  partition  was  issued 
under  the  great  seal  in  Januarjs  1593,  according  to  which 
Donal  was  to  have  the  lordship,  castles,  and  dependencies 
of  Bear,  while  Sir  Owen  was  to  possess  those  eastward 
and  northward  of  the  peninsula.  It  is  highlj^  probable 
that  by  this  decision  the  Pale  authorities  hoped  to  enthral 
Donal  without  losing  Sir  Owen,  to  make  both  branches  of 
the  family,  as  it  were,  compete  in  loyalty  to  the  English 
power,  and  in  any  event,  by  putting  enmity  between  them, 
cause  them  to  split  up  and  weaken  their  own  influence. 
In  this  latter  calculation  they  were  not  disappointed,  as 
the  sequel  shows ;  but  their  speculations  or  expectations 
about  Donal  were  all  astray.    He  was  indeed  averse  to 

1  Nothing  strikes  the  reader  of  Donal's  correspondence  with  King  Philip 
and  the  Spanish  ministers,  more  forcibly  than  the  constant  solicitude,  the 
deep  feeling,  and  affectionate  attachment  he  exhibits  towards  his  "poor 
people,"  as  he  always  calls  them.  Amidst  the  wreck  of  all  his  hopes,  the 
loss  of  worldly  wealth  and  possessions,  home,  country,  friends,  his  chief 
concern  is  for  his  **poor  people"  abandoned  to  the  jiersecution  of  the 
merciless  English  foe.  In  all  his  letters  it  is  the  same.  No  murmur,  no 
repining  for  himself;  but  constant  solicitude  about  Ireland,  and  constant 
sorrow  for  his  poor  people,  left  "  like  sheep  without  a  shepherd  when  the 
storm  shuts  out  the  sky." 


THE  STORY  OF  IB  ELAND. 


291 


hopeless  and  prospectless  struggles  against  the  power  of 
England,  and  on  attaining  to  the  chieftaincy,  directed  his 
attention  mainly  to  the  internal  regulation  of  his  territory, 
and  the  bettering  of  the  condition  of  his  people  in  every 
respect,  not  by  forays  on  neighbouring  clans,  but  by  the 
peaceful  influences  of  industry.  But  Donal,  grave  and 
placid  of  exterior,  truly  patriotic  of  heart,  watched  atten- 
tively the  rise  and  progress  of  O'Neill's  great  movement 
in  the  north.  For  a  time  he  believed  it  to  be  merely  a  quar- 
rel between  the  queen's  protSgS  and  his  royal  patroness, 
sure  to  be  eventually  adjusted ;  and  accordingly  up  to 
a  recent  period  he  displayed  no  sympathy  with  either  side 
in  the  conflict.  But  when  that  conflict  developed  itself 
into  a  really  national  struggle,  O'Sullivan  never  wavered 
for  a  moment  in  deciding  what  his  attitude  should  be ; 
and  that  attitude,  once  taken,  was  never  abandoned, 
never  varied,  never  compromised  by  act  or  word  or  wish, 
through  all  that  followed  of  sacrifice  and  suffering  and 
loss.  O'Neill,  who  was  a  keen  discerner  of  character, 
read  O'Sullivan  correctly  when  he  estimated  all  the  more 
highly  his  accession,  because  it  was  that  of  a  man  who 
acted  not  from  hot  impulse  or  selfish  calculation,  but  from 
full  deliberation  and  a  pure  sense  of  duty.  In  fine,  it  was 
not  lightly  the  Irish  council  at  Innishannon  selected  the 
lord  of  Dunboj'  for  such  honourable  but  perilous  promi- 
nence as  to  name  him  one  of  the  three  men  to  whom  was 
committed,  in  the  darkest  crisis  of  their  country,  the 
future  conduct  of  the  national  cause.^ 

We  may  imagine  the  memorable  scene  of  the  morn  suc- 
ceeding that  night  of  sleepless  consultation  at  Innishannon 


1  These  high  Irishmen,  namely,  O'Neill  and  O'Donnell,  ordered  that 
the  chief  command  and  leadersliip  of  these  (the  Munster  forces)  should  be 
given  to  O'Sullivan  Beare,  i.e.,  Donal,  the  son  of  Donal  the  son  of  Dermot  ; 
for  he  was  at  this  time  the  best  commander  among  their  allies  in  Munster 
tox  wisdom  and  valour."  —  Annals  of  the  Four  Masters, 


THE  STOEY  OF  IB  ELAND. 


over  hapless  Erinn's  fate  —  the  parting  of  the  chiefs  ! 
Wildly  they  embraced  each  other,  and  like  clutch  of  iron 
was  the  farewell  grasp  of  hand  in  hand,  as  each  one  turned 
away  on  the  path  of  his  allotted  task  I  O'Neill  marched 
northward,  where  we  shall  trace  his  movements  subse- 
quently. O'Donnell  took  shipping  for  Spain,  and  O'Sul- 
livan  at  the  head  of  his  faithful  clansmen  marched 
westward  for  Bantry  and  Bearhaven.  Had  Don  Juan 
D'Aquilla  been  a  true  and  steadfast  man  —  had  he  been 
at  all  worthy  and  fit  to  command  or  conduct  such  an 
enterprise — had  he  been  at  all  capable  of  appreciating  its 
peculiar  exigencies  and  duties  —  the  defeat  at  Kinsale, 
heavy  and  full  of  disaster  as  it  was,  might  soon  have  been 
retrieved,  and  the  whole  aspect  of  affairs  reversed.  Had 
he  but  held  his  ground  (as  not  unreasonably  he  might 
have  been  expected  to  do,  with  three  thousand  men  within 
a  fortified  and  well-stored  town)  until  the  arrival  of  the 
further  reinforcements  which  he  must  have  known  his 
royal  master  was  sending,  or  would  quickly  send,  and 
thus  cooperated  in  the  scheme  of  operation^  planned  by 
the  Irish  chiefs  at  Innishannon,  nothing  that  had  so  far 
liappened  could  be  counted  of  such  great  moment  as  to 
warrant  abandonment  of  the  expedition.  But  D'Aquilla's 
conduct  was  miserably  inexplicable.  He  could  not  act  more 
despairingly  if  his  last  cartridge  had  been  fired,  if  his  last 
gunner  had  perished,  if  his  last  horse  had  been  eaten," 
or  if  assured  that  King  Philip  had  utterly  abandoned  liim. 
After  a  few  sorties,  easily  repulsed,  he  offered  to  capitulate. 
Carew,  who  hereby  saw  that  Don  Juan  was  a  fool,  was, 
of  course,  only  too  happy  to  grant  him  any  terms  that 
w^ould  insure  the  departure  of  the  Spanish  aids.  By  con- 
ceduig  conditions  highly  flattering  to  D'Aquilla's  personal 
vanity,  the  lord  president  induced  that  outwitted  com- 
mander not  only  to  draw  off  to  Spain  the  entire  of  the 
ex])edition,  but  to  undertake  to  yield  up  to  the  English 


THE  STORY  OF  IE  EL  AND. 


293 


all  the  castles  and  fortresses  of  the  Irish  chiefs  in  which 
Spanish  garrisons  had  been  placed,  and  to  order  back 
to  Spain  any  further  troops  that  might  arrive  before  his 
departure.  This  imbecility  or  treason  ruined  the  Irish 
cause  in  the  south,  and  ruining  it  there  at  such  a  juncture, 
ruined  it  everywhere.  Such  a  capitulation  was  utter  and 
swift  destruction  to  the  southern  leaders.  It ''took  the 
ground  from  under  their  feet."  It  reft  them  of  bases  of 
operations,  and  flung  them  as  mere  fugitives  unsheltered 
and  unprovisioned  into  the  open  field,  the  forest,  the 
morass,  or  the  mountain,  to  be  hunted  and  harried,  cut 
off  in  detail,  and  pitilessly  put  to  the  sword  by  Carew's 
numerous,  powerful,  and  well-appointed  field  corps  or 
scouring  parties. 

Don  Juan's  capitulation  was  signed  11th  January,  1602 
(N.S.).  Seven  days  afterwards  the  lord  deputy  ^nd  the 
lord  president  drew  off  to  Cork.  The  day  following  the 
captains  received  directions  to  repair  to  sundry  towns  in 
Munster  appointed  for  their  garrisons ;  and  the  same  day 
Captain  Roger  Harvie  and  Captain  George  Flower  were 
dispatched  with  certain  companies  to  go  by  sea  to  receive 
the  castles  of  Castlehaven,  Donnashed  and  Donnelong 
at  Baltimore,  and  Dunboy  at  Bearhaven."  On  the  12th 
February,  the  Spanish  oflScer  in  command  at  Castlehaven 
gave  up  the  castle  to  Harvie.  On  the  21st  he  proceeded 
to  Baltimore,  the  two  castles  of  which  the  Spanish  officers 
therein  gave  up  in  like  manner ;  and  in  a  few  weeks  all 
the  coast  district  castles  of  the  south-west,  those  of  the 
Bear  promontory  alone  excepted,  were  in  tlie  hands  of  the 
English.  A  month  later  (16th  March)  Do]i  Juan  sailed 
for  Spain,  most  of  his  forces  having  been  shipped  thither 
previously.^ 

1  "  On  his  return  to  Spain  he  was  degraded  from  his  rank  for  his  too  great 
intimacy  with  Carew,  and  confined  a  prisoner  in  his  own  house.  He  is  said 
to  have  died  of  a  broken  heart  occasioned  by  the?.  >  iridignities.*  —  M'Gee, 


294 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAyD. 


0\Sullivaii  heard  with  clisraa}^  and  indignation  of  Don 
Juan's  audacious  undertaking  to  deliver  up  to  his  crueL 
cursed,  misbelieving  enemies,"  his  castle  of  Dunboy,  the 
key  of  his  inheritance.^  With  speed,  increased  by  this 
evil  news,  he  pushed  rapidly  homeward,  and  in  due  time 
he  appeared  with  the  remnant  of  his  little  force  ^  before 
the  walls  of  the  castle,  demanding  admittance.  The 
Spaniards  refused;  they  had  heard  of  D'Aquilla's  terms 
of  capitulation,  they  regretted  them,  but  felt  constrained 
to  abide  by  them.  Donal,  however,  knowing  a  portion  of 
the  outworks  of  the  place  which  afforded  some  facilities 
for  his  purpose,  availed  himself  of  a  dark  and  stormy  night 
to  effect  an  entrance,  mining  his  way  through  the  outer 
wall,  and  surprising  and  overpowering  the  Spaniards.  He 
then  addressed  them  feelingly  on  the  conduct  of  D'Aquilla 
and  the  present  posture  of  affairs,  stating  his  resolution  to 
hold  the  castle  till  King  Philip  would  send  fresh  aid,  and 
offering  a  choice  to  the  Spaniards  to  remain  with  him  or 
sail  for  home.  Some  of  them  decided  to  remain,  and  were 
amongst  the  most  determined  defenders  of  Dunboy  in  the 
subsequent  siege.  The  rest,  Donal  sent  to  Spain,  dis- 
patching at  the  same  time  envoys  with  letters  to  King- 
Philip,  urgently  entreating  speedy  aid.  Moreover,  in 
charge  of  these  messengers,  he  sent  to  the  king,  as  guaran- 
tee of  his  good  faith  and  perseverance,  his  oldest  son,  a 
boy  of  tender  years. 

1  "Among  other  iDlaces  which  were  neither  yielded  nor  taken  toe  the 
end  that  they  should  be  delivered  to  the  English,  Don  Juan  tied  himself 
to  deliver  my  castell  and  haven,  the  only  key  of  mine  inheritance,  where- 
upon the  living  of  many  thousand  persons  doth  rest  that  live  some  twenty 
leagues  upon  the  sea  coast,  into  the  hands  of  m}-  cruell,  cursed,  misbeliev- 
ing enemies."  —  Letter  of  Donal  O'Sullivan  Beare  to  the  King  of  Spain.  — 
Pacata  Hihcrnia. 

O'Sullivan's  contingent,  we  are  told,  '*  was  amongst  those  who  made 
the  most  determined  fight  on  the  disastrous  day  of  Kinsale,  and  when  the 
battle  was  lost,  it  bravely  protected  some  of  the  retreating  troops  of 
the  northern  chieftains,  who  l»ut  for  such  protection  would  have  suffered 
juore  severely  than  the7  did,'' 


THE  STORY'  OF  IRELAND, 


295 


Well  knowing  that  soon  he  would  have  the  foe  upon 
him,  Donal  now  set  about  preparing  Dunboj'  for  the  tough 
and  terrible  trial  before  it.  He  had  the  outworks  strength- 
ened in  every  part ;  and  another  castle  of  his,  on  Dursey 
Island  (at  the  uttermost  extremity  of  the  peninsula,  divid- 
ing Bantry  and  Kenmare  bays),  garrisoned  by  a  trusty 
band;  designing  this  latter  as  a  refuge  for  himself,  his 
family,  and  clansmen,  in  the  event  of  the  worst  befalling 
Dunboy. 


CHAPTER  XLVI. 

HOW  THE  QUEEX'S  FORCES  SET  ABOUT  ''TRANQUILLIZ- 
ING "  MUNSTER.  HOW  CAREW  SENT  EARL  THOMOND 
ON  A  MISSION  INTO  CARBERY,  BEAR,  AND  BANTRY. 

EANWHILE  the  detachments  detailed  by  Carew 
were  doing  their  savage  and  merciless  work 
throughout  Cork  and  Kerry,  xlccording  to 
Carew's  own  version,  the  occupation  of  these 
troops,  day  by  day,  was  the  seeking  out  and  murdering  in 
cold  blood  of  all  the  native  inhabitants,  men,  women,  and 
children ;  and  when  they  were  not  murdering  they  were 
cow-stealing  and  corn-burning.  How  to  extirpate  the  hap- 
less people  —  how  to  blast  and  desolate  the  land,  rather 
than  it  should  afford  sustenance  to  even  a  solitary  fugitive 
of  the  doomed  race  —  was  the  constant  effort  of  the 
English  commanders.  Carew  was  not  the  first  of  his 
name  to  signalise  himself  in  such  work.  It  was  the  pro- 
cess by  which  Munster  had  been  "  pacified  "  —  i.e.^  deso- 
lated—  barely  thirty  years  before.  It  was  that  by  which 
Cromwell,  forty  years  subsequently,  pursued  the  san^e  end. 
It  was  a  system,  the  infamy  of  which,  amongst  the  nations 


296 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


of  the  world,  pagan  or  Christian,  is  wholly  monopolized 
by  England.  The  impartial  reader,  be  his  nationality 
English  or  Irish,  perusing  the  authentic  documents  stored 
in  the  State  Paper  Office,  is  forced  to  admit  that  it  was 
not  ivar  in  even  its  severest  sense,  but  murder  in  its  most 
hideous  and  heartless  atrocity,  that  was  waged  upon  the 
Irish  people  in  the  process  of  subjugating  them.  It  was 
not  that  process  of  conquest  the  wounds  of  which,  though 
sharp  and  severe  for  the  moment,  soon  cicatrise  with  time. 
Such  conquests  other  countries  have  passed  through,  and 
time  has  either  fused  the  conqueror  and  the  conquered,  or 
obliterated  all  bitterness  or  hate  between  them.  Had 
Ireland,  too,  been  conquered  thus,  like  happy  results  might 
be  looked  for ;  but  as  the  process  was  wofuUy  different,  so 
has  the  product  been ;  so  must  it  ever  be,  till  the  laws  of 
nature  are  reversed  and  revolutionised,  and  grapes  grow 
on  thorns  and  figs  on  thistles.  It  was  not  war  —  which 
might  be  forgotten  on  both  sides  —  but  murder  which  to 
this  day  is  remembered  on  one  side  with  a  terrible  memory. 

A  thoroughly  English  historian  —  Froude  —  writing  in 
our  day  on  these  events,  has  found  the  testimony  of  the 
State  Paper  Office  too  powerful  so  resist ;  and  with  all  his 
natural  and  legitimate  bias  or  sympathy  in  favour  of  his 
own  country,  his  candour  as  a  historian  more  than  once 
constitutes  him  an  accuser  of  the  infamies  to  which  I  have 
been  referring.  The  English  nation,"  he  says,  was 
shuddering  over  the  atrocities  of  the  Duke  of  Alva.  The 
children  in  the  nurseries  were  being  inflamed  to  patriotic 
rage  and  madness  by  tlie  tales  of  Spanish  tyranny.  Yet 
Alva's  bloody  sword  never  touched  the  young ^  the  defence- 
less^ or  those  whose  sex  even  dogs  can  recognize  and  respect^  ^ 

"  Sir  Peter  Carew  has  been  seen  murdering  women  and 
children,  and  babies  that  had  scarcely  left  the  breast ;  but 


1  Fronde's  UUtonj  of  Enf/Ji  jid,  vol.  x.  page  508. 


THE  STOEY  OF  IllELAND, 


297 


Sir  Peter  Carew  was  not  called  on  to  answer  for  his  con- 
duct, and  remained  in  favour  with  the  deputy.  Gilbert, 
who  was  left  in  command  at  Kilmallock,  was  illustrating 
yet  more  signally  the  same  tendency.^ 

"  Nor  was  Gilbert  a  bad  man.  As  times  went  he  passed 
for  a  brave  and  chivalrous  gentleman ;  not  the  least  dis- 
tinguished in  that  high  band  of  adventurers  who  carried 
the  English  flag  into  the  western  hemisphere,  a  founder  of 
colonies,  an  explorer  of  unknown  seas,  a  man  of  science, 
and,  above  all,  a  man  of  special  piety.  He  regarded  him- 
self as  dealing  rather  with  savage  beasts  than  with  human 
beings,  and  when  he  tracked  them  to  their  dens,  he 
strangled  the  cubs  and  rooted  out  the  entire  broods.''  ^ 

"  The  Gilbert  method  of  treatment,"  says  Mr.  Froude 
again,  "  has  this  disadvantage,  that  it  must  be  carried  out  to 
the  last  extremity,  or  it  ought  not  to  be  tried  at  all.  The 
dead  do  not  come  back ;  and  if  the  mothers  and  the  babies 
are  slaughtered  with  the  men,  the  race  gives  no  further 
trouble ;  but  the  work  must  be  done  thoroughly ;  partial 
and  fitful  cruelty  lays  up  only  a  long  debt  of  deserved  and 
ever-deepening  hate." 

The  work  on  this  occasion  happening  not  to  be  donu 
thoroughly,"  Mr.  Froude  immediately  proceeds  to  ex- 
plain :  — 

"In  justice  to  the  English  soldiers,  however,  it  must  be 
said  that  it  was  no  fault  of  theirs  if  any  Irish  child  of 
that  generation  was  allowed  to  live  to  manhood."  ^ 

The  same  historian  frankly  warns  his  readers  against 
supposing  that  such  work  was  exceptional  on  the  part  of 
the  Engiisk  forces.  From  the  language  of  the  official 
documents  before  him,  he  says,  the  inference  is  but  too 
natural,  that  work  of  this  kind  was  the  road  to  prefer- 
ment, and  that  this,  or  something  like  it,  was  the  ordinarif 
employment  of  the  'Saxon*  garrisons  in  Ireland."^ 

1  Froude's  History  of  Engkmdy  vol.  x.  page  509. 

2  Ibid.,  vol.  X.  page  508.  ^  ibid.,  page  5U7.        ^  Ibid.,  page  512. 


208 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND, 


Such,  then,  was  the  work  in  which  Carew  the  Second 
and  his  garrisons  occupied  themselves  on  the  fall  of  Kin- 
sale.  Sir  Charles  Wilmot  at  the  head  of  fifteen  hundred 
men  was  dispatched  to  desolate  Kerry;  and  on  the  9th 
March,  Carew  formally  issued  a  commission  to  the  Earl  of 
Thomond  '"to  assemble  his  forces  together,  consisting 
of  two  thousand  and  five  hundred  foot  in  list,  and  fifty 
horse,"  for  the  purpose  of  wasting  Carbery,  Bear,  and 
Bantry,  and  making  a  reconnaisstmce  of  Dunboy.^  Tho- 
mond accordingly  marched  as  far  as  the  abbey  of  Bantrie, 
and  there  had  notice  that  Donnell  O'Sullivan  Beare  and 
his  people,  by  the  advice  of  two  Spaniards,  an  Italian,  and 
a  fryer  called  Dominicke  Collins,  did  still  continue  their 
workes  about  the  castle  of  Dunboy."  "Hereupon  the 
earl  left  seven  hundred  men  in  list  in  the  Whidd}'  (an 
island  lying  within  the  Bay  of  Bantrie)  very  convenient 
for  the  service,  and  himself  with  the  rest  of  his  forces 
returned  to  Corke,  where  having  made  relation  of  the 
particulars  of  his  journey,  it  was  found  necessary  that  the 
president,  without  any  protractions  or  delay,  should  draw 
all  the  forces  {71  the  province  to  a  head  against  them."  ^ 

1  "  The  service  you  are  to  performe  is  to  doe  aU  your  endeavour  to  burne 
the  rebels'  Corne  in  Carbery,  Bear,  and  Bantr^^  take  their  Cowes,  and  to 
use  all  hostile  prosecution  upon  the  persons  of  the  people,  as  in  such  cases 
of  rebellion  is  accustomed.  .  .  .  When  you  are  in  Beare  (if  you  may  with- 
out any  apparent  perill),  your  lordship  shall  doe  well  to  take  a  view  of 
the  Castle  of  Dunboy,  whereby  wee  may  be  the  better  instructed  how  to 
proceed  for  the  taking  of  it  when  time  convenient  shall  be  afforded."  — 
Instructions  g?ven  to  the  Earl  of  Thomond,  9th  March.   Facata  Hibeniia. 

2  Facata  Hibernia. 


4 


THE  STOBY  OF  IMELAND, 


299 


CHAPTER  XLVII, 

HOW  THE  LORD  PRESIDENT  GATHERED  AN  ARMY  OF 
FOUR  THOUSAND  MEN  TO  CRUSH  DOOMED  DUNBOY, 
THE  LAST  HOPE  OF  THE  NATIONAL  CAUSE  IN  MUN- 
8TER. 

AREW  set  out  from  Cork  on  the  20tli  April,  at 
the  head  of  hi&  army  ;  on  the  30th  they  reached 
Dunamark,  about  a  mile  north  of  the  town  of 
Bantry,  having  on  the  way  halted,  on  the  23d 
at  Owneboy,  near  Kinsale  ;  24th,  at  Timoleague  ;  25th,  at 
Rosearbery ;  26th,  at  Glenharahan,  near  Castlehaven ; 
27th,  at  Baltimore,  where  they  spent  two  days,  Carew 
visiting  Innisherkin ;  29th,  "  on  the  mountain,  at  a  place 
called  Recareneltaghe,  neare  unto  Kilcoa,  being  a  castel 
wherein  the  rebell  Conoghor,  eldest  sonne  to  Sir  Finnin 
O'DrischoU,  knight,  held  a  ward." 

Carew  spent  a  month  in  encampment  at  Dunamark,  by 
the  end  of  which  time  the  fleet  arrived  at  the  same  place, 
or  in  the  bay  close  by,  having  come  round  the  coast  from 
Cork.  Meantime  his  message  for  a  war-muster  against 
O'SuUivan  had  spread  throughout  Munster.  On  the  other 
hand,  such  effort  as  was  possible  in  their  hapless  plight, 
was  made  by  the  few  patriot  leaders  in  the  province ;  all 
perceiving  that  upon  Dunboy  now  hung  the  fate  of  the 
Irish  cause,  and  seeing  clearly  enough  that  if  they  could 
not  keep  off  from  O'SuUivan  the  tremendous  force  ordered 
against  him,  it  must  inevitably  overwhelm  him.  Accord- 
ingly, spreading  themselves  eastward  around  the  base  of 
the  Bear  promontory,  and  placing  themselves  on  all  the 
lines  leading  thereto,  they  desperately  disputed  the  ground 
with  the  concentrating  English  contingents,  beating  them 


300 


THE  STORY  OF  IH ELAND. 


back,  or  obstructing  them  as  best  they  could.  Above  all, 
the  endeavour  was  to  keep  Wilmot's  Kerry  contingent 
from  coming  up.  Tyrrell  was  specially  charged  to  watch 
Wilmot  —  to  hold  him  in  check  at  Killarney,  and  at  all 
hazard  and  any  cost  to  prevent  his  junction  with  Carew 
at  Bantry.  Tj^rrell  posted  his  force  so  advantageously  in 
the  passes  leading  southward  from  Killarney,  and  held 
them  so  firmly,  that  for  weeks  Wilmot's  most  vehement 
efforts  to  force  or  flank  them  were  vain.  At  length,  by  a  feat 
whicli  merits  for  him,  as  a  military  achievement,  everlasting 
praise  —  a  night  march  over  Mangerton  Mountain  —  Wil- 
mot evaded  T3Trell ;  pushed  on  through  a  mountain  district 
scarcely  passable  at  this  day  for  horsemen,  until  he  reached 
Inchigeela;  thence  he  marched  through  Ceam-an-Eigh 
Pass  (unaccountably  left  unguarded),  and  so  onward 
till  he  reached  Bantry.  By  this  junction  Carew's  force 
was  raised  to  nearly  four  thousand  men.  While  waiting 
for  Wilmot,  the  daily  occupation  of  the  army,  according 
to  the  lord  president's  account,  was  sheep-stealing  and 
cow-stealing.i  At  Dunamark  Carew  was  joined  by  the 
sons  of  Sir  Owen  Sullivan,  uncle  of  Donal  of  Dunboy ; 


1  "  The  first  of  Maj^  Captaine  Taffe's  troop  of  Horse  with  certain  light 
foote  were  sent  from  the  Campe,  who  returned  with  three  hundred  Coives, 
many  Sheepe,  and  a  great  number  of  Garraris  they  got  from  the  Rebels. 

'*  The  second  Captaine  John  Barry  brought  into  the  Campe  five  hun- 
dred Cowes,  three  hundred  Sheepe,  three  hundred  Garrans,  and  had  the  killin'j 
of  Jive  Rebels  ;  and  the  same  day  we  procured  skirmish  in  the  edge  of  the 
Fastnesse  with  the  rebels,  but  no  hurt  of  our  part. 

"  The  third,  Owen  Osulevan  and  his  brothers,  sonnes  to  Sir  Owen  Osule- 
van  (who  stands  firme,  and  deserved  well  of  her  Majestie,  being  Competi- 
toTirs  with  Osulevan  Beare)  brought  some  fiftie  Cowes  and  some  sheepe  from 
the  enemy  into  the  Campe. 

"  The  Rebells  receiving  also  notice,  that  the  President  was  marchv  d  so 
neere  to  the  Countrey  of  Beare,  withdrew  themselves  out  of  Desmond  (as 
before)  into  Glangarve,  whereby  opportunitie  was  offered  to  the  Go\  ern- 
our  of  performing  some  good  service.  For  Donnell  Osulevan  Mure,  a 
malicious  Rebell,  remained  with  great  store  of  eattell  and  certain  Kerne  m 
Iveragli  ;  wliich  being  made  knowen  to  Sir  Charles,  upon  the  fifth  of  INImv, 
hee  secretly  dispatched  a  partie  of  men,  which  burnt  and  spoyled  all  (ht 


TBJ^:  sronr  of  insLAND. 


and  to  the  information  and  cooperation  given  his  enemies 
by  these  perfidious  cousins,  Donal  most  largely  owed  the 
fate  that  subsequently  befel  him. 

On  the  14th  of  May  a  council  of  war  was  held  in  the 
English  camp  to  determine  their  course  to  Bearhaven ; 
whereat  it  was  decided  to  march  by  the  southern  shore  of 
the  bay,  called  Muinter-varia,  to  a  point  nearly  opposite 
Bear  Island ;  from  this  point,  by  means  of  the  fleet,  to 
transport  the  whole  army  across  the  bay  to  Bear  Island ; 
and  thence  across  to  the  mainland  close  bj'  Dunboy  ;  this 
course  being  rendered  necessary  by  the  fact  that  Donal's 
forces  defended  the  passes  of  Glengarriffe,  through  which 
alone  Bearhaven  could  be  reached  by  land  from  Bantry. 
On  the  31st  of  May,  accordingly,  Carew  marched  from 
Dunamark  to  "  Kilnamenghe  on  the  sea  side,  in  Mounter- 
varry."  The  two  next  following  days  were  occupied  in 
transporting  the  army  to  Bear  Island,  upon  which,  eventu- 
ally, the  whole  force  was  landed.  A  short  march  across 
the  island  brought  them  to  its  northern  shore,  in  full  view 
of  Dunbo3%  barely  a  mile  distant  across  the  narrow  en- 
trance to  Bearhaven  Harbour. 


Countrey,  and  returned  vnth  foure  thousand  Coioes,  besides  Sheepe  and  Gar- 
7'ans." 

"  A  Sergeant  of  the  Earle  of  Thomond's  with  a  partie  of  his  Company, 
drew  to  Down-Manus,  whence  hee  brought  a  prey  of  three-score  and  slT^e 
Cowes,  ivith  a.great  many  of  Garrans."  —  Pacata  Hibernia, 


302 


THE  STORY  OF  IB  ELAND. 


CHAPTER  XL VIII. 

THE  LAST  DAYS  OF  DUNBOY :   A  TALE  OF  HEROISM! 

ELL  might  consternation  fill  the  breasts  of  the 
Bear  clansmen  on  beholding  the  resources  now 
displayed  against  them  ;  a  well-appointed  army 
of  nearly  four  thousand  men  on  the  shore,  and 
hostile  war-ships  encircling  them  by  sea!  Within  the 
castle  O'Sullivan  had,  according  to  the  English  accounts, 
exactly  one  hundred  and  forty-three  men  ;  there  being 
besides  these  not  more  than  five  or  six  hundred  of  his 
clansmen  available  at  the  moment  for  fighting  purposes. 
But  his  was  not  a  soul  to  be  shaken  by  fears  into 
abandonment  of  a  cause  which,  failing  or  gaining,  was 
sacred  and  holy  in  his  eyes  —  the  cause  of  religion  and 
country.  So  Donal,  who  knew  that  a  word  of  submission 
would  purchase  for  him  not  only  safety  but  reward,  undis- 
turbed possession  of  his  ancestral  rights,  and  English  titles 
to  wear  if  he  would,  quailed  not  in  this  nor  in  still  darker 
hours.  He  had  ''nailed  his  colours  to  the  mast,"  and 
looked  Fate  calmly  in  the  face. 

It  seems  to  have  been  a  maxim  with  the  lord  president 
never  to  risk  open  fight  until  he  had  first  tried  to  effect  his 
purpose  by  secret  treason.  While  staying  at  Bantry  he 
had  addressed  a  letter  to  the  Spanish  gunners  in  Dunboy, 
offering  them  all  manner  of  inducements  to  betray  O'Sul- 
livan, to  desert  the  castle,  first  taking  care,  as  he  says,  to 
cloy  the  ordnance  or  mayme  their  carriages,  that  when 
they  shall  have  need  of  them  they  may  prove  useless ;  for 
the  which  I  will  forthwith  liberally  recompense  you  answer- 
able to  the  qualities  of  your  merit."    The  infamous  propo- 


THE  STOnr  OF  TRELANT). 


sition  was  scouted  by  the  men  to  whom  it  was  addressed. 
Carew,  unabashed,  now  resolved  to  try  whether  he  could 
not  corrupt  the  Constable  of  Dunboy,  O'Sullivan's  most 
trusted  friend,  —  a  man  whose  memory  is  to  this  day  held 
in  worship  by  the  people  of  Bear  —  Richard  Mac  Geo- 
ghegan,  the  impersojiation  of  chivalrous  fidelity,  the  very 
soul  of  truth,  lionour,  and  bravery  !  Thomond  was  com- 
missioned to  invite  the  Constable  of  Dunboy  to  a  parley. 
Mac  Geoghegan  acceded  to  the  invitation,  came  across  to 
Bear  Island  (5th  June),  and  met  the  earl,  in  presence  of, 
but  apart  from,  their  respective  guards,  on  the  shore.  Of 
that  memorable  interview  Carew  has  left  us  a  brief  but 
characteristic  description.  ''All  the  eloquence  and  arti- 
fice which  the  Earle  could  use  avayled  nothing :  for  Mac 
Geoghegan  was  resolved  to  persevere  in  his  wayes ;  and, 
in  the  great  love  which  he  pretended  to  beare  unto  the 
Earle  (Thomond),  he  advised  him  not  to  hazard  his  life 
in  landing  upon  the  Mayne.  .  .  .  The  Earle  disdayning 
both  his  obstinacie  and  his  vaine-glorious  advice,  broke  off 
his  speech,  telling  Mac  Geoghegan  that  ere  many  days 
passed  hee  would  repent  that  hee  had  not  followed  his 
(the  EarFs)  counsel."  ^ 

Carew  had  at  first  designed  to  cross  over  and  land  on 
the  main  at  what  seemed  to  be  the  only  feasible  point,  a 
smooth  strand  at  a  spot  now  called  Caematrangan.  With- 
in a  few  perches  of  this  spot  reaches  one  end  of  a  small 
island  ("  Deenish  '•)  which  stretches  almost  completely 
across  the  mouth  of  the  inner  harbour  of  (modern)  Castle- 
town Beare.  Carew  landed  a  portion  of  his  army  on  this 
small  island ;  but  O'Sullivan  had  erected  a  battery  faced 
with  gabions  at  Caematrangan,  and  had,  moreover,  his 
small  force  drawn  up  at  hand  to  meet  the  invaders  at  the 
shore.   Whereupon  Carew,  while  making  a  feint  as  if  about 


1  Pacata  Hiberma, 


mt:  STORY  OF  ibela:\^d. 


to  attempt  the  passage  there,  directed  the  remainder  of  his 
force  quickh^  to  pass  to  the  other  (or  eastern)  extremity 
of  Deenish,  and  effect  a  landing  on  the  main  at  that  point. 
This  they  were  able  to  accomplish  unopposed,  for  the  dis- 
tance thereto,  from  O'Sullivan's  strand  battery,  owing  to 
the  sweep  of  the  shore  and  a  narrow  arm  of  the  sea  inter- 
vening, was  two  or  three  miles,  whereas  directly  across, 
by  water  or  on  Deenish  Island,  was  a  reach  of  less  than 
half  a  mile.  Nevertheless,  O'SuUivan,  discerning,  though 
all  too  late,  the  skilful  use'made  by  Carew  of  the  natural 
advantages  of  the  ground,  hastened  with  all  speed  to  con- 
front the  invaders,  and,  unawed  b}-  the  disparity  of  num- 
bers against  him  —  thousands  against  hundreds  —  boldly 
gave  them  battle.  Carew  himself  seems  to  have  been 
quite  struck  with  the  daring  courage  or  "  audacity  "  of  this 
proceeding.  After  marvelling  at  such  foolhardiness,  as  he 
thought  it,  he  owns  they  came  on  bravely,"  and  main- 
tained a  very  determined  attack.  It  was  only  when  addi- 
tional regiments  were  hurried  up,  and  utterly  overwhelmed 
them  by  numbers,  that  Donal's  little  force  had  to  aban- 
don the  unequal  strife,  leaving  their  dead  and  wounded 
upon  the  field. 

That  night,  however,  there  reached  Dunboy  news  well 
calculated  to  compensate  for  the  gloom  of  perils  so  great 
and  so  near  at  hand.  A  Spanish  ship  had  arrived  at  * 
O'Sullivan's  castle  of  Ardea  (in  Kenmare  Bay,  on  the 
northern  shore  of  the  Bear  promontorj')  bringing  to 
Donal  letters  and  envoys  from  King  PhiUp,  and  aid  for 
the  Munster  chiefs  in  money,  arms,  and  ammunition,  com- 
mitted to  his  care  for  distribution.  Moreover,  there  came 
by  this  ship  the  cheering  intelligence  that  an  expedition  of 
some  fifteen  thousand  men  was  being  organized  in  Spain 
for  Ireland  when  the  vessel  sailed !  Here  was  glorious  hope 
indeed  !  It  was  instantly  decided  that  the  chief  himself 
should  proceed  with  all  promptitude  to  meet  the  envoys 


TM£:  STOMY  OF  IRELAND, 


306 


landed  at  Ardea,^  and  look  to  the  important  duties  re- 
quired of  him  by  their  messages ;  meanwhile  entrusting 
the  defence  of  Dunboy  to  Mac  Geoghegan  and  a  chosen 
garrison.  Next  morning  Donal,  with  all  his  available 
force,  exclusive  of  a  garrison  of  one  hundred  and  forty- 
three  picked  men  left  in  the  castle,  set  out  for  Ardea.  The 
farewell  cheers  that  rang  out  from  the  ramparts  behind 
him,  gave  token  of  brave  resolve  to  do  or  die,  and  doubt- 
less helped  to  lighten  the  chieftain's  heart  with  whispers 
of  hope.  But  alas  !  Donal  had  taken  his  last  farewell  of 
Dunboy.  When  next  he  gazed  upon  the  once  proud  home 
of  his  fathers,  it  was  a  smoking  and  blood-clotted  ruin !  — 

The  halls  where  mirth  and  minstrelsy 

Than  Beara's  wind  rose  louder, 
Were  flung  in  masses  lonelily, 

And  black  with  English  powder  ! 

For  eleven  days  Mac  Geoghegan  fought  Dunboy  against 
Carew  and  his  surrounding  army  of  four  thousand  men  I 
Eleven  days,  during  which  the  thick  white  cloud  of  smoke 
never  once  lifted  from  battery  and  trench,  and  the  deafen- 
ing boom  of  cannon  never  once  ceased  to  roll  across  the 
bay.  By  the  17th  of  June  the  castle  had  been  knocked 
into  a  ruinous  condition  by  an  incessant  bombardment 
from  the  well-appointed  English  batteries.  The  lord  pres- 
ident devotes  several  pages  of  his  journal  to  minute  and 
copious  descriptions  of  each  day's  labour  in  a  siege  which 
he  declares  to  be  unparalleled  for  obstinacy  of  defence ; 

1  These  were  the  Most  Rev.  Dr.  McEgan,  Bishop  of  Ross,  and  Father 
Nealon.  They  brought,  says  Carew,  "  letters  to  sundry  rebels,  and  twelve 
thousand  pounds.  The  disposition  of  the  money  by  appointment  in  Spaine 
was  left  principally  to  Donnall  O'Sulevan  Beare,  Owen  McEggan,  James 
Archer,  and  some  others."  This  same  Bishop  McEgan  was  subsequently 
killed  near  Bandon  fighting  gallantly,  with  his  sword  in  one  hand  and  his 
beads  in  the  other.  His  remains  were  buried  in  the  Abbey  of  Timoleague. 
—  (See  the  Pacata  Hibernia  ;  also  Dunboy,  by  T.  D.  Sullivan. 


77f^  STOEY  01^  IB  ELAND. 


and  his  narrative  of  tlie  closing  scenes  of  the  struggle  is 
told  with  painful  particularity.  Mr.  Haverty  condenses 
the  tragic  story  very  effectively  as  follows :  "  The  garrison 
consisted  of  only  one  hinidred  and  forty-three  chosen 
fighting  men,  wlio  liad  .but  a  few  small  cannon,  while  the 
comparatively  large  army  Avhich  assailed  them  were  well 
supplied  with  artillery  and  all  the  means  of  attack.  At 
length,  on  the  17th  of  June,  when  the  castle  had  been 
nearly  shattered  to  pieces,  the  garrison  offered  to  surren- 
der if  allowed  to  depart  with  their  arms ;  but  their  mes- 
senger was  immediately  hanged  and  the  order  for  the 
assault  was  given.  Although  the  proportion  of  the  assail- 
ants in  point  of  numbers  was  overwhelming,  the  storming 
party  were  resisted  with  the  most  desperate  braver3^  From 
turret  to  turret,  and  in  every  part  of  the  crumbling  ruins, 
the  struggle  was  successivel)''  maintained  throughout  the 
live-long  day ;  thirty  of  the  gallant  defenders  attempted 
to  escape  by  swimming,  but  soldiers  had  been  posted  in 
boats,  who  killed  them  in  the  water ;  and  at  length  the 
surviving  portion  of  the  garrison  retreated  into  a  cellar, 
into  which  the  only  access  was  by  a  narrow,  winding,  flight 
of  stone  steps.  Their  leader,  Mac  Geogliegan,  being  mor- 
tally wounded,  the  command  was  given  to  Thomas  Taylor, 
the  son  of  an  Englishman,  and  the  intimate  friend  of 
Captain  Tyrrell,  to  Avhose  niece  he  was  married.  Nine 
barrels  of  gunpowder  were  stowed  away  in  the  cellar,  and; 
with  these  Taylor  declared  that  he  would  blow  up  all  that^ 
remained  of  the  castle,  burying  himself  and  his  compjin-; 
ions  with  their  enemies  in  the  ruins,  unless  they  receiv-ed 
a  promise  of  life.  This  was  refused  by  the  savage  Car^w, 
who,  placing  a'  guard  upon  the  entrance  to  the  cellar,  as 
it  was  then  after  sunset,  returned  to  the  work  of  slaugh- 
ter next  morning.  Cannon  balls  were  discharged  among 
the  Irish  in  their  last  dark  retreat,  and  Taylor  was  forced 
by  his  companions  to  surrender  unconditionally  ;  but 


THE  STOBT  OF  in  ELAND. 


307 


when  some  of  the  English  officers  descended  into  the 
cellar,  they  found  the  wounded  Mac  Geoghegan,  with  a 
lighted  torch  in  his  hand,  staggering  to  throw  it  into  the 
gunpowder.  Captain  Power  thereupon  seized  him  by  the 
arms,  and  the  others  dispatched  him  with  their  swords ; 
but  the  work  of  death  was  not  yet  completed.  Fifty-eight 
of  those  who  had  surrendered  were  hanged  that  day  in  the 
English  camp,  and  some  others  were  hanged  a  few  days 
after ;  so  that  not  one  of  the  one  hundred  and  forty-three 
heroic  defenders  of  Dunboy  survived.  On  the  22d  of 
J une  the  remains  of  the  castle  were  blown  up  by  Carew 

^,  .with  the  gunpowder  found  therein." 

Few  episodes  of  Irish  history  have  been  more  warmly 
ei^Dgized  than  this  heroic  defence  of  Dunboy  ;  nor  would 
it  be  easy  to  find  in  the  history  of  any  countrj'  one  more 
largely  calculated  to  excite  sympathy  and  admiration.  Dr. 
Robert  Dwyer  Joyce,  in  his  published  volume  of  Ballads, 
Romances^  and  Songs,  contributes  a  truly  graphic  poem  on 

_  the  subject.    Subjoined  are  the  concluding  stanzas  :  — 

THE  SACK  OF  DUNBUI.  ' 


Nearer  yet  they  crowd  and  come, 

With  taunting  and  yelling  and  thundering  drum, 

AVith  taunting  and  yelling  the  hold  thev  environ, 

And  swear  that  its  towers  and  defenders  must  fall, .. 
While  the  cannon  are  set,  and  their  death-hail  of  iron 

Crash  wildly  on  bastion  and  turret  and  wall  ; 
And  the  ramparts  are  torn  from  their  base  to  their  brow ; 
Ho  !  will  they  not  yield  to  the  murderers  now  ? 
No  !  its  huge  towers  shall  float  over  Cleena's  bright  sea, 
Ere  the  Gael  prove  a  craven  in  lonely  Dunbui. 

Like  the  fierce  god  of  battle,  Mac  Geoghegan  goes 
From  rampart  to  wall,  in  the  face  %i  his  foes  j- 


808 


THJi:  STORY  OF  IB  EL  AND. 


Now  his  voice  rises  high  o*er  the  cannon's  fierce  din, 
Whilst  the  taunt  of  the  Saxon  is  loud  as  before, 

But  a  yell  thunders  up  from  his  warriors  within, 
And  they  dash  through  the  gateway,  down,  down  to  the  shore, 
With  their  chief  rushing  on.    Like  a  storm  in  its  wrath, 
They  sweep  the  cowed  Saxon  to  death  in  their  path  ; 
Ah !  dearly  he  11  purchase  the  fall  of  the  free, 
Of  the  lion-souled  warriors  of  lonely  Dunbui ! 

Leaving  terror  behind  them,  and  death  in  their  train, 
Now  they  stand  on  their  walls  'mid  the  dying  and  slain, 

And  the  night  is  around  them  —  the  battle  is  still,  — 
That  lone  summer  midnight,  ah !  short  is  its  reign; 

For  the  morn  springeth  upward,  and  valley  and  hill 
Fling  back  the  fierce  echoes  of  conflict  again. 
And  see  !  how  the  foe  rushes  up  to  the  breach, 
Towards  the  green  waving  banner  he  yet  may  not  reach, 
For  look  how  the  Gael  flings  him  back  to  the  sea, 
From  the  blood-reeking  ramparts  of  lonely  Dunbui  1 

Night  Cometh  again,  and  the  white  stars  look  down, 
From  the  hold  to  the  beach,  where  the  batteries  frown. 

Night  Cometh  again,  but  affrighted  she  flies, 
Like  a  black  Indian  queen  from  the  fierce  panther's  roar, 

And  morning  leaps  up  in  the  wide-spreading  skies, 
To  his  welcome  of  thunder  and  flame  evermore ; 
For  the  guns  of  the  Saxon  crush  fearfully  there. 
Till  the  walls  and  the  towers  and  ramparts  are  bare. 
And  the  foe  make  their  last  mighty  swoop  on  the  free, 
The  brave-hearted  warriors  of  lonely  Dunbui ! 

Within  the  red  breach  see  Mac  Geoghegan  stand. 
With  the  blood  of  the  foe  on  his  arm  and  his  brand. 

And  he  turns  to  his  warriors,  and  "fight  we,"  says  he, 
**  For  country,  for  freedom,  religion,  and  all : 

Better  sink  into  death,  and  for  ever  be  free, 
Than  yield  to  the  false  Saxon's  mercy  and  thrall !  " 
And  they  answer  with  brandish  of  sparth  and  of  glaive : 
"  Let  them  come :  we  will  give  thern  a  welcome  and  grave; 
Let  them  come :  from  their  swords  could  we  flinch,  could  we  flee, 
When  we  fight  for  our  country,  our  God.  and  Dunbui?" 


THE  STORY  OF  IB  ELAND. 


309 


They  came,  and  the  Gael  met  their  merciless  shock  — 
Flung  them  backward  like  spray  from  the  lone  Skellig  rock; 

But  they  rally,  as  wolves  springing  up  to  the  death 
Of  their  brother  of  famine,  the  bear  of  the  snow  — 

He  hurls  them  adown  to  the  ice-fields  beneath, 
Rushing  back  to  his  dark  norland  cave  from  the  foe ;  — 
So  up  to  the  breaches  they  savagely  bound. 
Thousands  still  thronging  beneath  and  around. 
Till  the  firm  Gael  is  driven  —  till  the  brave  Gael  must  flee 
In,  into  the  chambers  of  lonely  Dunbui ! 

In  chamber,  in  cellar,  on  stairway  and  tower. 
Evermore  they  resisted  the  false  Saxon's  power ; 

Through  the  noon,  through  the  eve,  and  the  darknesi  of  night 
The  clangour  of  battle  rolls  fearfully  there, 

Till  the  morning  leaps  upw-ard  in  glory  and  light. 
Then,  w^here  are  the  true-hearted  warriors  of  Beare? 
They  have  found  them  a  refuge  from  torment  and  chain, 
They  have  died  with  their  chief,  save  the  few  who  remain, 
And  that  few  —  oh,  fair  Heaven !  on  the  high  gallows  tree, 
They  swing  by  the  ruins  of  lonely  Dunbui ! 

Long,  long  in  the  hearts  of  the  brave  and  the  free 
Live  the  warriors  who  died  in  the  lonely  Dunbui ! 

Down  time's  silent  river  their  fair  names  shall  go, 
A  light  to  our  race  towards  the  long  coming  day; 

Till  the  billows  of  time  shall  be  checked  in  their  flow 
Can  we  find  names  so  sweet  for  remembrance  as  they  I 
And  we  will  hold  their  memories  for  ever  2gid  aye, 
A  halo,  a  glory  that  ne'er  shall  decay, 
We  '11  set  them  as  stars  o'er  eternity's  sea, 
The  names  of  the  heroes  who  fell  at  Dunbui ! 

During  the  progress  of  the  siege  at  Dunboy,  Carew  had 
dispatched  a  force  to  Dursey  Island,  which,  landing  in  the 
night,  succeeded  in  overpowering  the  small  and  indeed 
unwary  garrison  left  there ;  so  that,"  as  a  historian  re- 
marks, no  roof  now^  remained  to  the  Lord  of  Bearhaven/' 
Donal,  collecting  his  people,  one  and  all,  men,  women,  and 
childi^en,  us  well  as  all  the  herds  and  remoTabl^  property 


310 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


of  the  clan,  now  retired  eastward  upon  his  great  natural 
stronghold  of  Glengarriffe.  Here  he  defied  and  defeated 
every  attempt  to  dislodge  him.^  For  three  months  he 
awaited  with  increasing  anxiety  and  suspense  the  daily- 
expected  news  from  Spain.  Alas !  In  the  words  of  one 
of  our  historians,  the  ill-news  from  Spain  in  September, 
threw  a  gloom  over  those  mountains  deeper  than  was  ever 
cast  by  equinoctial  storm."  But  here  we  must  pause  for 
awhile  to  trace  the  movements  of  O'Donnell  and  O'Neill 
after  the  parting  at  Innishannon. 


1  On  one  occasion  a  fierce  and  protracted  battle  ensued  between  him 
and  the  combined  forces  of  Wilmot,  Selsby,  and  Slingsby;  A  bitter  tight," 
says  Carew,  "  maintained  without  intermission  for  sixe  bowers;  tlie  Enemy 
not  leaving  their  pursuit  untill  they  came  in  sight  of  the  campe;  for  whose 
reliefe  two  regiments  were  drawne  forth  to  gieve  countenance,  and  Down- 
ings  was  sent  with  one  hundred  and  twenty  choisse  men  to  the  succour  of 
Barry  and  Selby,  who  in  the  reare  were  so  hotly  charged  by  the  Rebels  that 
they  came  to  the  Sword  and  Pike;  and  the  skirmish  continued  till  nif/ht 
parted  thejn."  Notwithstanding  their  immense  superiority  in  numbers, 
night  was  a  welcome  relief  to  the  English;  for  it  not  only  saved  them  from 
a  perilous  position,  but  enabled  them  to  get  off  an  immense  spoil  of  cattle, 
w^hich  early  in  the  day  they  had  taken  from  the  Irish.  Brilliant  as  was  the 
victory  for  O'SuUivan  in  other  respects,  the  loss  thus  sustained  must  have 
been  most  severe  —  two  thousand  cows,  four  thousand  sheep,  and  one 
thousand  horse,  according  to  Carew;  a  store  of  sheep  and  kine  which  even 
in  these  days  of  "cattle  shows"  and  "agricultural  societies,"  it  would  be 
difficult  to  collect  in  the  same  locality. 


THE  STOEY  OF  IRELAND. 


311 


CHAPTER  XLIX. 

HOW  THE  FALL  OF  DUNBOY  CAUSED  KING  PHILIP  TO 
CHANGE  ALL  HIS  PLANS,  AND  RECALL  THE  EXPEDI- 
TION FOR  IRELAND  ;  AND  HOW  THE  REVERSE  BROKE 
THE  BRAVE  HEART  OF  RED  HUGH.  HOW  THE  "LION 
OF  THE  NORTH  "  STOOD  AT  BAY,  AND  MADE  HIS  FOES 
TREMBLE  TO  THE  LAST. 

^^^^HREE  days  after  the  defeat  at  Kinsale,  O'Doii- 
nell  —  having  deputed  his  brother  Riiari  to  coiu- 
maiid  the  clan  in  his  absence  —  accompanied  by 
his  confessor,  his  secretary,  and  some  military 
attaches  or  aides-de-camp^  sailed  from  Castlehaven  for  Co- 
runna,  where  he  arrived  on  the  14th  of  January.  lie 
was  received  with  high  distinction  by  the  Marquis  of  Cara- 
9ena  and  other  nobles,  'who  evermore  gave  O'Donnell  the 
right  hand;  which  within  his  government,'  says  Carew, 
'he  would  not  have  done  to  the  greatest  duke  in  Spain.' 
He  travelled  through  Gallicia,  and  at  Santiago  de  Com- 
postella  was  royally  entertained  by  the  archbishop  and 
citizens;  but  in  bull-fighting  on  the  stately  Alameda  he 
had  small  pleasure.  With  teeth  set  and  heart  on  fire, 
the  chieftain  hurried  on,  traversed  the  mountains  of  Gal- 
licia and  Leon,  and  drew  not  bridle  until  he  reached 
Zamora,  where  King  Philip  was  then  holding  his  court. 
With  passionate  zeal  he  pleaded  his  country's  cause ;  en- 
treated that  a  greater  fleet  and  a  stronger  army  might  be 
sent  to  Ireland  without  delay,  unless  his  Catholic  majesty 
desired  to  see  his  ancient  Milesian  kinsmen  and  allies 
utterly  destroyed  and  trodden  into  earth  by  the  tyrant 
Elizabeth ;  and  above  all,  whatever  was  to  be  done  he 
prayed  it  might  be  done  instantly,  while  O'Neill  still  held 


312 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


his  army  on  foot  and  his  banner  flying ;  while  it  was  not 
yet  too  late  to  rescue  poor  Erin  from  the  deadly  fangs  of 
those  dogs  of  England.  The  king  received  him  affection- 
ately, treated  him  with  high  consideration,  and  actually 
gave  orders  for  a  powerful  force  to  be  drawn  together  at 
Corunna  for  another  descent  upon  Ireland.^ 

"  He  returned  to  that  port,*from  which  he  could  every 
day  look  out  across  the  western  waves  that  lay  between 
him  and  home,  and  where  he  could  be  kept  constantly 
informed  of  what  was  passing  in  Ireland.  Spring  was  over 
and  gone,  and  summer  too  had  passed  away,  but  still  the 
exigencies  of  Spanish  policy  delayed  the  promised  expedi- 
tion." ^  "That  armament  never  sailed;  and  poor  O'Don- 
nell  never  saw  Ireland  more ;  for  news  arrived  in  Spain,  a 
few  months  after,  .that  Dun-baoi  Castle,  the  last  strong- 
hold in  Munster  that  held  out  for  King  Philip,  was  taken  ; 
and  Beare-Haven,  the  last  harbour  in  the  south  that  was 
open  to  his  ships,  effectually  guarded  by  the  English.  The 
Spanish  preparations  were  countermanded,  and  Red  Hugli 
was  once  more  on  his  journey  to  the  court,  to  renew  his 
almost  hopeless  suit,  and  had  arrived  at  Simancas,  two 
leagues  from  Valladolid,  when  he  suddenly  fell  sick ;  his 
gallant  heart  was  broken,  and  he  died  there  on  the  10th 
of  September,  1602.  He  was  buried  by  order  of  the  king 
with  royal  honours,  as  befitted  a  prince  of  the  Kinel- 
Conal;  and  the  chapter  of  the  cathedral  of  St.  Francis,  in 
the  stately  city  of  Valladolid,  holds  the  bones  of  as  noble 
a  chief  and  as  stout  a  warrior  as  ever  bore  the  wand  of 
chieftaincy,  or  led  a  clan  to  battle."^ 

''Thus,"  says  another  writer,  "closed  the  career  of  one 
of  the  brightest  and  noblest  characters  in  any  history. 
His  youth,  his  early  captivity,  his  princely  generosity,  his 
daring  courage,  his  sincere  piety,  won  the  hearts  of  all 


J  Mitcbel. 


^  M'Gee. 


s  Mitchel. 


THE  UTOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


313 


who  came  in  contact  with  him.  He  was  the  sword,  as 
O'Neill  was  the  brain,  of  the  Ulster  confederacj^ :  the 
Ulysses  and  Achilles  of  the  war,  they  fought  side  by  side 
without  jealousy  or  envy,  for  almost  as  long  a  period  as 
their  prototypes  had  spent  in  besieging  Troy." 

One  cannot  peruse  unmoved  the  quaint  and  singular 
recital  of  O'Donnell's  characteristic  merits  and  virtues 
given  .by  the  Four  Masters.  Of  him  it  can  with  scrupu- 
lous truth  be  said  that  —  unlike  not  a  few  others,  famed 
as  soldiers,  or  rulers,  or  statesmen  ^ —  his  character,  in  eveiy 
phase,  was  pure  and  noble ;  and  that  his  private  life  as 
well  as  his  public  career  was  worthy  of  admiration,  with- 
out stain  and  without  reproach. 

Meanwhile  O'Neill  had  set  out  homeward  at  the  head 
of  the  shattered  Ulster  contingent ;  and  now  the  lord 
deputy  felt  that  the  moment  had  come_for  a  supreme  effort 
to  pour  doW'U  upon  and  overwhelm  him.  The  Lion  of 
the  North"  was  struck,  and,  badly  wounded,  was  retreat- 
ing to  his  lair.  This  was  surely  the  time  fur  pressing  him 
to  the  death — for  surrounding,  capturing,  or  slaying  the 
once  dreaded  foe.  So  throughout  Leinster,  Connaught, 
and  Ulster,  the  cry  was  spread  for  the  English  garrisons, 
and  all  natives  who  would  mark  themselves  for  favour  and 
consideration,  to  rise  simultaneously  and  burst  in  upon 
the  territories  of  the  confederate  chiefs;  while  the  deputy 
swiftly  assembled  troops  to  intercept,  capture,  or  destroy 
them  on  their  homeward  way  from  the  south.  The  Irish 
cause  w^as  down  —  disastrously  and  hopelessly.  Now, 
therefore,  was  the  time  for  all  who  ^-bow  the  knee  and 
worship  the  rising  sun  *'  to  show  their  zeal  on  the  winning- 
side.  Tyrconnell  and  Tyrowen,  as  well  as  the  territo- 
ries of  O'Rorke  and  Maguire,  were  inundated  by  con- 
verging streams  of  regular  troops  and  volunteer  raiders : 
w^hile  O'Neill,  like  a  **lion,"  indeed,  who  finds  that  the 
hunter  is  infling  his  home,  macle  tlu^  earth  tremble  in  his 


314 


THE  STOIIY  OF  III  EL  AM). 


path  to  the  rescue  I  With  the  concentrated  passion  of 
desperation  he  tore  through  every  obstacle,  routed  every 
opposing  army,  and  marched  —  strode  —  to  the  succour  of 
his  people,  as  if  a  thunderbolt  cleared  the  way.  Soon  his 
enemies  were  made  to  understand  that  thfe  "  Lion  of  the 
North  "  was  still  alive  and  unsubdued.  But  it  was,  in 
sooth,  a  desperate  cause  that  now  taxed  to  its  uttermost 
the  genius  of  Hugh.  The  lord  deputy,  Mountjoy,  pro- 
ceeded to  the  north  to  take  command  in  person  against 
him ;  while  "  Dowcra,  marching  out  of  Derry,  pressed 
O'Neill  from  the  north  and  north-east."  Mountjoy  ad- 
vanced on  Hugh's  family  seat,  Dungannon;  but  O'Neill 
could  ever  better  bear  to  see  his  ancestral  home  in  ashes 
than  to  have  it  become  the  shelter  of  his  foes.  The  lord 
deputy  "  discovered  it  in  the  distance,  as  Norreys  had  once 
before  done,  in  flames,  kindled  by  the  hand  of  its  strait- 
ened proprietor."  With  vigour  and  skill  undiminished 
and  spirit  undaunted,  Hugh  rapidly  planned  and  carried 
out  his  measures  of  defensive  operations.  In  fine,  it  v/as 
in  this  moment  of  apparent  wreck  and  ruin  and  despair, 
that  O'Neill's  character  rose  into  positive  grandeur  and 
sublimity,  and  that  his  glorious  talents  shone  forth  in  their 
greatest  splendour.  Never,"  says  one  of  our  historians, 
"did  the  genius  of  Hugh  O'Neill  shine  out' brighter  than 
in  these  last  defensive  operations.  In  July,  Mountjoy 
writes  apologetically  to  the  council,  that  '  notwithstanding 
her  Majesty's  great  forces  O'Neil  doth  still  live.'  He  bit- 
terly complains  of  his  consummate  caution,  his  '  pestilent 
judgment  to  spread  and  to  nourish  his  own  infection,'  and 
of  the  reverence  entertained  for  his  person  by  the  native 
population.  Early  in  August,  Mountjoy  had  arranged 
what  he  hoped  might  prove  the  finishing  stroke  in  the 
struggle ;  Dowcra  from  Derry,  Chichester  from  Carrick- 
fergus,  Danvers  from  Armagh,  and  all  who  could  be 
spared  from  Mountjoy,  Tharlemont,  and  Mountnorris, 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


315 


were  gathered  under  his  command,  to  the  number  of  eight 
thousand  men,  for  a  foray  into  the  interior  of  Tyrone. 
Inisloghlin,  on  the  borders  of  Down  and  Antrim,  which 
contained  a  great  quantity  of  valuables  belonging  to 
O'Neill,  was  captured,  Magherlowney  and  Tulloghoge 
were  next  taken.  At  the  latter  place  stood  the  ancient 
stone  chair  on  which  the  O'Neills  were  inaugurated,  time 
out  of  mind ;  it  was  now  broken  into  atoms  by  Mountjoy's 
orders.  But  the  most  effective  warfare  was  made  ,  on  the 
growing  crops.  The  eight  thousand  men  spread  them- 
selves over  the  fertile  fields,  along  the  valleys  of  the  Bann 
and  the  Roe,  destroying  the  standing  grain  with  fire, 
where  it  would  burn,  or  with  the  praca^  a  peculiar  kind  of 
harrow,  tearing  it  up  by  the  roots.  The  horsemen  tram- 
pled crops  into  the  earth  which  had  generously  nourished 
them ;  the  infantry  shore  them  down  with  their  sabres  ; 
and  the  sword,  though  in  a  very  different  sense  from  that 
of  Holy  Scripture,  was,  indeed,  converted  into  a  sickle. 
The  harvest  moon  never  shone  upon  such  fields  in  any 
Christian  land.  In  September,  Mountjoy  reported  to 
Cecil,  'that  between  Tullaghoge  and  Toome  there  lay 
unburied  a  thousand  dead,'  and  that  since  his  arrival  on 
the  Blackwater  —  a  period  of  a  couple  of  months — there 
were  three  thousand  starved  in  Tyrone.  In  O'Cane's 
country,  the  misery  of  his  clansmen  drove  the  chief  to 
surrender  to  Dowcra,  and  the  news  of  Hugh  Roe's  death 
having  reached  Donegal,  his  brother  repaired  to  Athlone, 
and  made  his  submission  to  Mountjoy.  Early  in  Decem- 
ber, O'Neill,  unable  to  maintain  himself  on  the  river  Roe, 
retired  with  six  hundred  foot  and  sixty  horse  to  Glen- 
cancean,  near  Lough  Neagh,  the  most  secure  of  his  fast- 
nesses. His  brother  Cormac,  McMahon,  and  Art  O'Neil, 
of  Clandeboy,  shared  with  him  the  wintry  hardships  of 
that  asylum,  while  Tyrone,  Clandeboy,  and  Monaghan, 
were  given  up  to  horrors,  surpassing  any  that  had  been 
known  or  dreamt  of  in  former  wars,*' 


316 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


By -this  time  O'Sullivan  had  bravely  held  his  position  in 
Glengarriffe  for  full  six  months  against  all  the  efiForts  of 
the  Munster  army.  That  picturesque  glen,  whose  beauty 
is  of  world-wide  fame,  was  for  Donal  a  camp  formed  by 
nature,  within  which  the  old  and  helpless,  the  women  and 
children  of  his  clan,  with  their  kine  and  sheep,  were 
safely  placed,  while  the  fighting  force,  which,  with  Tyr- 
rell's contingent,  did  not  exceed  800  men,  guarded  the  few- 
passes  through  which  alone  the  alpine  barriers  of  the  glen 
could  be  penetrated.  Here  the  little  community,  as  we 
might  call  them,  housed  in  tents  of  evergreen  boughs, 
lived  throughout  the  summer  and  autumn  months,  "  wait- 
ing for  the  news  from  Spain."  They  fished  the  "  fishful 
river"  that  winds  through  that  elysian  vale,  and  the 
myriad  confluent  streams  that  pour  down  from  the  "  hun- 
dred lakes  "  of  Calia.  They  hunted  the  deer  that  in  those 
days,  as  in  our  own,  roamed  wild  and  free  through  the 
densely  wooded  craggy  dells.  Each  morning  the  guards 
were  told  off  for  the  mountain  watches;  and  each  even- 
ing the  bugles  of  the  chief,  returning  from  his  daily  inspec- 
tion, or  the  joyous  shouts  of  victory  that  proclaimed  some 
new  assault  of  the  enemy  repulsed,  woke  the  echoes  of 
the  hills.  And  perhaps  in  the  calm  summer  twilight,  the 
laugh  and  the  song  went  round ;  the  minstrels  touched 
their  harps,  and  the  clansmen  improvised  their  simple  rus- 
tic sports,  while  the  Chief  and  Lady  Aileen  moved  through 
the  groups  with  a  gracious  smile  for  all  I  For  they  noth- 
ing doubted  that  soon  would  come  the  glad  tidings  that 
King  Philip's  ships  were  in  the  bay  ;  and  then !  —  Bear 
would  be  swept  of  the  hated  foe,  and  their  loved  Dunboy 

 again  would  rise 

And  mock  the  English  rover  ! 

Alas !  this  happy  dream  was  to  fade  in  sorrow,  and  die 
out  in  bitterest  reality  of  des[)air  I    News  came  indeed 


THJ^  STOHY  of  IB  el  a  XT). 


317 


from  Spain  at  length ;  but  it  was  news  that  sounded  the 
knell  of  all  their  hopes  to  O'Sullivan  and  his  people  I 
O'Donnell  was  dead,  and  on  hearing  of  the  fall  of  Dunboy 
the  Spanish  government  had  countermanded  the  expedi- 
tion assembled  and  on  the  point  of  sailing  for  Ireland ! 
This  was  heart-crushing  intelligence  for  Donal  and  his 
confederates.  Nevertheless  they  held  out  still.  There 
remained  one  faint  glimmer  in  the  north ;  and  while  there 
was  a  sword  unsheathed  anywhere  in  the  sacred  cause  of 
fatherland,  they  would  not  put  up  theirs.  They  gave 
Carew's  captains  hot  work  throughout  Desmond  for  the 
remainder  of  the  autumn,  capturing  several  strong  posi- 
tions, and  driving  in  his  outlying  garrisons  in  Muskerry 
and  the  Carberies.  But  soon  even  the  northern  ray  went 
out,  and  the  skies  all  around  were  wrapt  in  Cimmerian 
gloom.    There  was  room  for  hope  no  more  ! 

What  was  now  Donal's  position?  It  is  difficult  ade- 
quately to  realise  it !  Winter  was  upon  him  ;  the  moun- 
tains were  deep  in  snow ;  his  resources  were  exhausted ; 
he  was  cooped  up  in  a  remote  glen,  with  a  crowd  of  help- 
less people,  the  aged  and  infirm,  women  and  children,  and 
with  barely  a  few  hundred  fighting  men  to  guard  them. 
He  was  environed  by  foes  on  all  hands.  The  nearest  point 
where  an  ally  could  be  reached  was  in  Ulster,  at  the  other 
extremity  of  Ireland  —  two  or  three  hundred  miles  away 
—  and  the  country  between  him  and  any  such  friendly 
ground  was  all  in  the  hands  of  the  English,  and  swarmed 
with  their  garrisons  and  scouring  parties. 

The  resolution  taken  by  O'Sullivan  under  these  circum- 
stances was  one  which  has  ever  since  excited  amongst  his- 
torical writers  and  military  critics  the  liveliest  sentiments 
of  astonishment  and  admiration.  It  was  to  pierce  through 
his  surrounding  foes,  and  fight  his  way  northward  inch  by 
inch  to  Ulster ;  convoying  meantime  the  women  and  chil- 
^ren^  the  aged^  sich  and  wounded  of  his  clan  —  in  fine,  all 


318  THt:  sTonr  of  inELAND. 

who  might  elect  to  claim  his  protection  and  share  his 
retreat  rather  than  trust  the  perils  of  remaining.  It  was 
this  latter  feature  which  preeminently  stamped  the  enter- 
prise as  almost  without  precedent.  For  four  hundred  men, 
under  such  circumstances,  to  cut  their  way  from  Glengar- 
riflfe  to  Leitrim,  even  if  divested  of  every  other  charge  or 
duty  save  the  clearing  of  their  own  path,  would  be  suffi- 
ciently daring  to  form  an  episode  of  romance ;  and  had 
Donal  more  regard  for  his  own  safety  than  for  his  "  poor 
people,"  this  would  have  been  the  utmost  attempted  by 
him.  But  he  was  resolved,  let  what  might  befall,  not  to 
abandon  even  the  humblest  or  the  weakest  amongst  them. 
While  he  had  a  sword  to  draw,  he  would  defend  them ; 
and  he  would  seek  no  safety  or  protection  for  himself  that 
was  not  shared  by  them.  His  owit  wife  and,  at  least,  the* 
youngest  of  his  children,  he  left  behiiid  in  charge  of  his 
devoted  foster-brother,  Mac  Swiney,  ^\\o  successfully  'ctin- 
cealed  them  until  the  chiefs  return,  nearly  eight'  months 
subsequently,  in  an  alniost  inaccessible  spot  at  the  foot  of 
an  immense  precipice  in  the  Glengarriffe  mountains,  now 
known  as  the  Eagle's  Nest.  Many  other  families  also 
elected  to  try  the  chance  of  escape  from  Carew's  scouring 
parties,  and  remained  behind,  hidden  in  the  fastnesses  of 
that  wild  region. 


I 


THE  STORY  OF  lUELAND, 


819 


CHAPTER  L. 

THE  EETREAT  TO  LETTRTM ;  "  THE  MOST  ROMANTIC  ANB 
GALLANT  ACHIEVEMENT  OF  THE  AGE." 

the  last  day  of  December,  1602,  was  com- 
menced this  memorable  retreat,  which  every 
writer  or  commentator,  whether  of  that  period 
or  of  our  own,  civil  or  military,  English  or 
Irish,  Jias  concurred  in  characterising  as  scarcely  to  be 
paralleled  in  history.^  Tyrrell  and  other  of  the  confeder- 
ates had  drawn  off  some  time  previously,  when  sauve  qui 
pent  evidently  became  the  maxim  with  the  despair-stricken 
band ;  so  that  O'Sullivan's  force  when  setting  out  from 
Glengarriffe  consisted  exactly  of  four  hundred  fighting 
men,  and  about  six  hundred  non-combatants,  women,  chil- 
dren, aged  and  infirm  people,  and  servants.^  Even  in  our 
own  day,  and  in  time  of  peace,  with  full  facilities  of  trans- 
port and  supply,  the  commissariat  arrangements  necessary 
to  be  made  beforehand  along  the  route  of  such  a  body  — 
a  thousand  souls  —  would  require  some  skill  and  organiza- 
tioti.'  But;  O'SuUivan  could  on  no  day  tell  where  or  how 
his  people  were  to  find  sustenance  for  the  morrow.  He 
had  money  enough,^  it  is  true,  to  purchase  supplies;  but 
no  one  durst  sell  them  to  bim,  or  permit-  him  to  take  ^ 

1  **  We  read  of  nothing  more  like  to  the  expedition  of  Young  Cyrus  and  • 
the  Ten  Thousand  Greeks,  than  this  retreat  of  O'Sullivan  Beare."  — 

McLC  Oeoghegmi.  '  ' 

"One"  of  the  most  extraordinary  retreats  recorded  in  history. "  — 
€i*ty.  ) 

"A  retreat  almost  unparalleled.''  —  M^Ges. 
The  mostTomantic  and  gallant  achievement  of  the  age."  —  Dai'zs. 

2  Historice  Catholicce  Hibernice,  Haverty,  M'Gee,  Mac  Geoghegan. 

8  Even  on  the  last  day  of  his  terrible  retreat,  we  find  him  able  to  pay  a 
guide  very  liberally  in  gold  pieces. 


THE  ^"^ruHY  OF  IHKLAMj. 


them.  Word  was  sent  through  the  country  by  the  lord 
president  for  all,  on  peril  of  being  treated  as  0' Sullivan  s 
covert  or  open  abettors^  to  fall  upon  him,  to  cross  his  road, 
to  bar  his  way,  to  watch  him  at  the  fords,  to  come  upon 
him  by  night ;  and,  above  all,  to  drive  off  or  destroy  all 
cattle  or  other  possible  means  of  sustenance,  so  that  of 
sheer  necessity  his  party  must  perish  on  the  way.  Whose 
lands  soever  O'SuUivan  would  be  found  to  have  passed 
through  unresisted,  or  whereupon  he  was  allowed  to  find 
food  of  any  kind,  the  government  would  consider  for- 
feited. Such  were  the  circumstances  under  which  the 
Lord  of  Bear  and  his  immortal  Four  Hundred  set  out  on 
their  mid-winter  retreat  on  the  31st  December,  1602. 

That  evening,  Don  Philip  tells  us,  they  reached  and 
encamped  at  "  a  place  on  the  borders  of  Muskerry,  called 
by  the  natives  Acharis."  ^  Next  day,  1st  January,  1603, 
they  reached  "before  noon,"  ''Balebrunia'YBallyvourney), 
famed  as  the  retreat  of  St.  Gubeneta,  whose  ruined  church 
and  penitential  stations  are  still  frequented  by  pious  pil- 
grims. Here  O'SuUivan  and  his  entire  force  halted,  that 
they  might  begin  their  journey  by  offering  all  their  suffer- 
ings to  God,  and  supplicating  the  powerful  praj^ers  of  His 
saint.  Donal  and  several  members  of  his  family  made 
gifts  to  the  altar,  and  the  little  army,  having  prayed  for 
some  time,  resumed  their  weary  march.  The  ordeal  com- 
menced for  them  soon.  They  were  assailed  and  harassed 
all  the  way  ''by  the  sons  of  Thadeus  Mac  Carthy,"  sev- 

^  I  am  not  aware  that  any  one  hitherto  has  identified  this  spot:  but  it 
is,  nevertheless,  plainly  to  be  found.  The  place  is  the  junction  of  some 
mountain  roads,  in  a  truly  wild  and  solitary  locality,  about  a  mile  north 
of  the  present  village  of  Bealnageary,  which  is  between  Gougane  Barra 
and  Macroom.  In  a  little  grove  the  ruined  church  of  Agharis  (marked  on 
the  Ordnance  maps)  identifies  for  us  the  locality  of  ''Acharis."  It  is  on 
the  road  to  Ballyvourney  by  O'Sullivan's  route,  which  was  from  Glen- 
garriffe  eastward  by  his  castle  of  the  Fawn's  Rock  ("  Carrick-an  Asa 
where  he  left  a  ward;  thence  through  the  Pass  of  the  Deer  ("  Ceam-au- 
•ih")  northward  to  Agharis. 


The  STOtiY  OF  IRELAND. 


321 


eral  being  wounded  on  both  sides.  They  cleared  their 
road,  however,  and  that  night  encamped  in  "  O'Kimbhi " 
(O'Keefe's  country:  Duhallow)  ;  ''but,''  saj^s  Philip,  "they 
had  little  rest  at  night  after  such  a  toilsome  day,  for  they 
were  constantly  molested  by  the  people  of  that  place,  and 
suffered  most  painfully  from  hunger.  For  they  had  been 
able  to  bring  with  them  but  one  day's  provisions,  and 
these  they  had  consumed  on  the  first  day's  march."  Next 
morning  they  pushed  forward  towards  the  confines  of 
Limerick,  designing  to  reach  that  ancient  refuge  of  the 
oppressed  and  vanquished,  the  historic  Glen  of  Aherlow, 
where  at  least  they  hoped  for  rest  in  safet}'  during  a  few 
days'  halt,  but  their  path  now  lay  through  the  midst  of 
their  foes  —  right  between  the  garrisons  of  Charleville 
and  Buttevant,  and  they  scarcely  hoped  to  cross  the  river 
in  their  front  without  a  heavy  penalty.  And  truly  enough, 
as  the  faint  and  weary  cavalcade  reached  the  bank,  a 
strong  force  under  the  brother  of  Viscount  Barry  en- 
countered them  at  Bellaghy  Ford.  The  women  and  chil- 
dren were  at  once  put  to  the  rear,  and  the  hunger-wasted 
company,  nevertheless,  all  unflinching,  came  up  to  the 
conflict  like  heroes.  It  was  a  bitter  fight,  but  despair 
gave  energy  to  that  desperate  fugitive  band.  They  liter- 
ally swept  their  foes  before  them,  and  would  not  have 
suffered  a  man  to  escape  them  had  not  hunger  and  terrible 
privation  told  upon  them  too  severely  to  allow  of  a  pur- 
suit. Dr.  Joyce  chronicles  this  combat  for  us  in  one  of 
his  ballads :  — 

"  We  stood  so  steady, 

All  under  fire, 
We  stood  so  steady, 
Our  long  spears  ready 

To  vent  our  ire  — 
To  dash  on  the  Saxon, 
Our  mortal  foe, 
And  lay  him  low 

In  the  bloody  mire  ! 


TBt:  sTonr  of  Ireland. 


"  'T  was  by  Blackwater, 

"When  snows  were  white, 

'T  was  by  Blackwater, 

Our  foes  for  the  slaughter 
Stood  full  in  sight ; 

But  we  were  ready 

With  our  long  spears ; 

And  we  had  no  fears 
But  we'd  win  the  fight. 

"  Their  bullets  came  whistling 

Upon  our  rank. 
Their  bullets  came  whistling, 
Their  bay'nets  were  bristling 

On  th'  other  bank. 
Yet  we  stood  steady. 
And  each  good  blade 
Ere  the  morn  did  fade 

At  their  life-blood  drank. 

"  *  Hurra !  for  Freedom ! ' 

Came  from  our  van ; 
*  Hurra !  for  Freedom ! 
Our  swords  —  we  '11  feed  'em 

As  but  we  can  — 
With  vengeance  we  '11  feed  'em ! 
Then  down  we  crashed, 
Through  the  wild  ford  dashed, 

And  the  fray  began  ! 

"  Horses  to  horses 

And  man  to  man  — 
O'er  dying  horses 
And  blood  and  corses 

O'Sullivan, 
Our  general,  thundered ; 
And  we  were  not  slack 
To  slay  at  his  back 

Till  the  flight  began. 


TBE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


323 


Oh  !  how  we  scattered 

The  foemeii  then  — 
Slaughtered  and  scattered 
And  chased  and  shattered, 

By  shore  and  glen ;  — 
To  the  wall  of  Moyallo, 
Few  fled  that  day,  — 
Will  they  bar  our  way 

AVhen  we  come  again  ? 

"  Our  dead  freres  we  buried,  — 

They  were  but  few,  — 
Our  dead  freres  we  buried 
Where  the  dark  waves  hurried 

And  flashed  and  flew : 
Oh  !  sweet  be  their  slumber 
Who  thus  have  died 
In  the  battle's  tide, 

Innisf ail,  for  you ! 

Pushing  on  for  Aherlow  —  the  un wounded  of  the  sol- 
diers carrying  between  them  the  wounded  of  the  past  three 
days'  conflict  —  after  a  march  of  thirty  miles  they  reached 
at  length  that  "vast  solitude,"  as  Don  Philip  calls  it. 
They  were  so  worn-out  by  travel  and  hunger,  toil  and 
suffering,  that  the  night  sentinels  posted  around  the  little 
camp  could  scarcely  perform  their  duty.^  The  prospect 
of  recruiting  strength  by  a  few  days'  repose  here  had  to 
be  abandoned,  lest  the  foes  now  gathering  around  them 
might  bar  all  way  to  the  Shannon.  So  next  morning,  at 
dawn,  having  refreshed  themselves  with  the  only  food 
available,  herbs  and  water^"^  they  set  out  northward.  On 
this  day  one  of  their  severest  battles  had  to  be  fought  — 
a  conflict  of  eight  hours'  duration.  O'SuUivan  says  that, 
though  the  enemy  exceeded  greatly  in  numbers,  they  were 
deficient  in  military  skill,  otherwise  the  men  of  Bear 


1  Historice  Catholicce  Ibeimice. 


2  Ibid. 


324 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELANP. 


must  have  been  overpowered.  From  this  forward  the 
march  grew  every  day  more  painful.  Nature  itself  could 
not  continue  to  endure  such  suffering.  The  fugitives 
dropped  on  the  road  from  utter  exhaustion,  or  strayed 
away  in  the  wild  delirious  search  for  food.  In  many 
instances  -the  sentries  at  night  died  at  their  posts  from 
sheer  privation.  Arriving  at  Dunnohill,  the  starving  sol- 
diery at  once  occupy  the  place.  The  first  who  arrived 
ravenously  devoured  all  the  food ;  those  who  came  next 
greedily  ate  everything  in  the  way  of  corn,  etc.  On  by 
Ballynakill,  Sleive  Felim,  and  Lateragh ;  each  day  a  pro- 
longed strife  with  foes  on  all  sides.  "  It  was  not  only," 
says  Don  Philip,  "  that  they  had  to  fight  against  superior 
numbers ;  but  every  day  O'Sullivan  had  fresh  enemies, 
while  his  soldiers  were  being  worn  out  by  cold,  hunger, 
and  incessant  fighting."  Still  they  guarded  faithfully  the 
women  and  children,  and  such  of  the  aged  as  could  walk 
without  assistance ;  and  maintained,  though  only  by  the 
utmost  exertion,  that  strict  discipline  and  precaution  to 
which  O'Sullivan  largely  owed  his  safety  on  this  march. 
A  vanguard  of  fort}"  men  always  went  in  front;  next 
came  the  sick  and  wounded,  the  women  and  children; 
next,  the  baggage  and  the  ammunition  ;  and,  last  of  all, 
protecting  the  rear,  Donal  himself  with  the  bulk  of  his 
little  force.  On  the  6th  January,  they  reached  the  wood 
of  Brosna  (now  Portland,  in  the  parish  of  Lorha);  and 
here  Donal  orders  the  little  force  to  entrench  themselves. 
Their  greatest  peril  is  now  at  hand.  The  "  lordly  Shan- 
non," wide  and  deep,  is  in  their  front ;  they  have  no  boats  ; 
and  the  foe  is  crowding  behind  and  around  them.  Donal's 
resort  in  this  extremity  was  one  worthy  of  his  reputation 
as  a  skilful  captain.  Of  the  few  horses  now  remaining  in 
his  cavalcade,  he  directed  eleven  to  be  killed.  The  skins 
he  strained  upon  a  firmly  bound  boat-frame  which  he  had 
his  soldiers  to  construct  in  the  wood  close  by  ;  the  flesh 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAXD. 


325 


was  cooked  as  a  luxury  for  the  sick  and  wounded.  In  this 
boat,  on  the  morning  of  the  8th  January,  he  commenced 
to  transport  his  little  force  across  the  Shannon,  from  Red- 
wood. As  he  was  in  the  act  of  so  doing,  there  arrived  on 
the  southern  bank,  where  the  women  and  children,  and 
only  a  portion  of  the  rear-guard  remained,  the  queen's 
^^heriff  of  Tipperary  and  a  strong  force,  who  instantly 

began  to  plunder  the  baggage,  slaughter  the  camp  fol- 
lowers, and  throw  the  women  and  children  into  the  river."  ^ 
One  of  O'Sullivan's  lieutenants,  in  charge  of  the  small 
guard  which,  however,  yet  remained,  fell  upon  them  with 
such  vehemence,  that  they  retired,  and  the  last  of  the 
fugitives  crossed  to  the  Connaught  shore. 

But  there  was  still  no  rest  for  that  hapless  company. 

The  soldiers  pressed  by  hunger  divide  themselves  into  two 
bands,  and  alternately  sustain  the  attacks  of  the  enemy, 
and  collect  provisions."  Arriving  at  Aughrim-Hy-Maine 
a  powerful  and  well  ordered  army  under  Sir  Thomas 
Burke,  Lord  Clanricarde's  brother,  and  Colonel  Henry 
Malby,  lay  across  their  route.  Even  Carew  himself  in- 
forms us  that  the  English  force  vastly  exceeded  the  gaunt 
and  famished  band  of  O'Sullivan ;  though  he  does  not 
venture  into  particulars.  In  truth  Donal  found  himself 
compelled  to  face  a  pitched  battle  against  a  force  of  some 
eight  hundred  men  with  his  wasted  party,  now  reduced  to 
less  than  three  hundred.  Carew  briefly  tells  the  story,  so 
bitter  for  him  to  tell.  "  Nevertheless,  when  they  saw  that 
either  they  must  make  their  way  by  the  sword  or  perish, 
they  gave  a  brave  charge  upon  our  men,  in  which  Captain 
Malby  was  slaine  ;  upon  whose  fall  Sir  Thomas  and  his 
troops  fainting,  with  the  loss  of  many  men,  studied  their 
safety  by  flight."  ^    The  quaint  record  in  the  AnnaU  of 

1  HistoricB  CatholicoR. 

2  Pacata  Hihernia,  In  the  next  foUowing  sentence  Carew  gives  with 
horrid  candour  and  equanimity,  a  picture,  hardly  to  be  paralleled  in  the 


326 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


the  Four  Masters  is  as  follows :  —  "  O'Sullivan,  O'Conor- 
Kerry,  and  William  Burke,  with  their  small  party,  were 
obliged  to  remain  at  Aughrim-Hy-Many  to  engage,  fight, 
and  sustain  a  battle-field,  and  test  their  true  valour  against 
the  many  hundreds  oppressing  and  pursuing  them.  O'Sul- 
livan, with  rage,  heroism,  fury,  and  ferocity,  rushed  to  the 
place  where  he  saw  the  English,  for  it  was  against  them 
that  he  cherished  most  animosity  and  hatred ;  and  made 
no  delay  until  he  reached  the  sj)ot  where  he  saw  their  chief; 
so  that  he  quickly  and  dexterously  beheaded  that  noble 
Englishman,  the  son  of  Captain  Malby.  The  forces  there 
collected  were  then  routed  and  a  countless  number  of 
them  slain."  ^  Beside  Malby  and  Burke  there  were  left 
on  the  field  by  the  English  "  three  standard  bearers  and 
several  officers."  It  was  a  decisive  victorj^  for  the  Prince 
of  Bear;  but  it  only  purchased  for  him  a  day's  respite. 
That  night,  for  the  first  time  —  terrible  affliction  —  he  had 
to  march  forward,  unable  to  bring  with  him  his  sick  or 
wounded !  Next  day  the  English  (who  could  not  win  the 
fight)  came  up  and  butchered  these  helpless  ones  in  cold 
blood !  I  summarize  from  the  Historice  Catholicce  the  fol- 
lowing narrative  of  the  last  days  of  this  memorable 
retreat : — 

"Next  day  at  dawn  he  crossed  Slieve  Muire  (Mount 
Mary)  and  came  down  on  some  villages  where  he  hoped 
to  procure  provisions.  But  he  found  all  the  cattle  and 
provisions  carried  away,  and  the  people  of  the  district 
arrayed  against  him,  under  the  command  of  Mac  David, 
the  lord  of  the  place.  He  withdrew  at  dusk  to  some  thick 
woods  at  Sliebh  Iphlinn.  But  in  the  night  he  received 
information  that  the  people  intended  to  surround  him  and 

records  of  savagery: —    Next  morning  Sir  Charles  OVilmot)  coming  to 
seeke  the  enemy  in  their  campe,  hee  entered  into  their  quarter  without 
resistance,  where  he  found  nothing  hut  hurt  and  sick  men,  whose  pains  and 
lives  by  the  soldiers  were  both  deter  mined. 
1  Annals  of  the  Four  Masters,  page  2319. 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


327 


cut  him  off.  Large  fires  were  lighted  to  deceive  his  ene- 
mies, and  he  at  once  set  off  on  a  night  march.  The  sol- 
diers suffered  exceedingly.  They  fell  into  deep  snow- 
drifts, whence  they  dragged  each  other  out  with  great 
di^iicultJ^ 

"  Next  day  they  were  overtaken  by  Mac  David.  But 
their  determined  attitude  made  their  foes  retire ;  and  so 
they  were  allowed  to  betake  themselves  to  another  wood 
called  Diamhbhrach,  or  the  Solitude.  Upon  entering  this 
refuge,  the  men,  overpowered  with  fatigue,  lay  down  and 
fell  asleep.  When  O'Sullivan  halted,  finding  only  twelve 
companions  with  himself,  he  ordered  fires  to  be  lighted,  in 
order  that  his  scattered  followers  might  know  whither  to 
turn  upon  waking. 

''At  dawn  of  next  day  numbers  of  the  inhabitants 
flocked  to  O'Sullivan's  bivouac,  attracted  by  the  unprece- 
dented spectacle  of  so  many  fires  in  such  a  lonely  solitude. 
They  furnished  him  gratuitously  with  food,  and  subse- 
quently informed  Oliver  Lombard,  the  governor  of  Con- 
naught,  that  the  fires  had  been  kindled  by  the  herdsmen. 
Many  of  the  Catholics  were  found  to  suffer  very  much  in 
their  feet,  by  reason  of  the  severity  of  the  weather  and  the 
length  of  the  march.  O'Connor,  especially,  suffered  griev- 
ously. To  give  as  long  a  rest  as  possible,  they  remained 
all  this  day  in  the  wood ;  but  a  night  march  was  necessary 
for  all.  This  was  especially  severe  on  O'Connor,  as  it  was 
not  possible  that  he  could  proceed  on  horseback.  For, 
since  the  enemy  occupied  all  the  public  routes  and  the 
paths  practicable  for  a  horse,  they  were  obliged  to  creep 
along  by  out-of-the-way  paths,  and  frequently  to  help 
each  other  in  places  where  alone  they  could  not  move. 

"A  guide  was  wanted,  but  God  provided  one.  A 
stranger  presented  himself,  clad  in  a  linen  garment,  with 
bare  feet,  having  his  head  bound  with  a  white  cloth,  and 
bearing  a  long  pole  shod  with  iron,  and  presenting  an  ap- 


328 


TEE  STORY  OF  IBELAND. 


pearance  well  calculated  to  strike  terror  into  the  beholders. 
Having  saluted  O'SuUivan  and  the  others,  he  thus  ad- 
dressed them :  '  I  know  that  you  Catholics  have  been 
^  overwhelmed  by  various  calamities,  that  you  are  fleeing 
from  the  tyranny  of  heretics,  that  at  the  hill  of  Aughrim 
you  routed  the  queen's  troops,  and  that  you  are  now  going 
to  O'Ruarke,  who  is  only  fifteen  miles  off;  but  you  want 
a  guide.  Therefore,  a  strong  desire  has  come  upon  me  of 
leading  you  thither.'  After  some  hesitation  O'SuUivan 
accepted  his  offer,  and  ordered  him  to  receive  two  hun- 
dred gold  pieces.  These  he  took,  '  not  as  a  reward,  but  as 
a  mark  of  our  mutually  grateful  feelings  for  each  other.' 
The  darkness  of  the  night,  their  ignorance  of  the  countrj^ 
and  their  unavoidable  suspicion  of  their  guide  multiplied 
their  fears.  The  slippery  condition  of  the  rocks  over 
which  they  had  to  climb,  the  snow  piled  up  by  the  wind, 
their  fatigue  and  weakness,  the  swelling  of  their  feet,  tor- 
mented the  unfortunate  walkers.  But  O'Connor  suffered 
most  of  all.  His  feet  and  legs  were  inflamed,  and  rapidly 
broke  into  ulcers.  He  suffered  excruciating  pain  ;  but  he 
bore  it  patiently  for  Jesus  Christ.  In  the  dead  of  the 
night  they  reached  a  hamlet.  Knock  Vicar  {Mons  Vicarii)^ 
where  they  refreshed  themselves  with  fire  and  food.  But 
when  thej'  were  again  about  to  proceed,  O'Connor  could 
not  stand,  much  less  walk.  Then  his  fellow  soldiers  car- 
ried him  in  their  arms  in  alternate  batches  of  four,  until 
they  found  a  wretched  horse,  upon  the  back  of  which 
they  placed  him.  At  length,  when  they  had  passed  Cor 
Sliebh,  the  sun  having  risen,  their  guide  pointed  out 
O'Ruarke's  castle  in  the  distance,  and  having  assured 
them  that  all  danger  was  now  passed,  he  bade  them  fare- 
well." 

Not  unlike  the  survivors  of  the  Greek  Ten  Thousand, 
to  whom  they  have  been  so  often  compared,  who,  when 
they  first  descried  the  sea,  broke  from  the  ranks  and 


THE  STOBY  OF  IE  ELAND. 


329 


rushed  forward  wildly  shouting  "  Thalatta  I  Thalatta ! "  that 
group  of  mangled  and  bleeding  fugitives  —  for  now,  alas  I 
they  were  no  more  —  when  they  saw  through  the  trees  in 
the  distance  the  towers  of  Leitrim  Castle,  sank  upon  the 
earth,  and  for  the  first  time  since  they  had  quitted  Bear, 
gave  way  to  passionate  weeping,  overpowered  by  strange 
paroxysms  of  joy,  grief,  suffering,  and  exultation.  At  last 
—  at  last !  —  they  were  safe  !  No  more  days  of  bloody 
combat,  and  nights  of  terror  and  unrest  I  No  more  of 
hunger's  maddening  pangs  I  No  more  of  fliglit  for  life, 
with  bleedmg  feet,  over  rugged  roads,  witli  murderous 
foes  behind  I  Relief  is  at  hand  !  They  can  sleep  —  they 
can  rest.  They  are  saved  —  they  are  saved!  Then,  kneel- 
ing on  the  sward,  from  their  bursting  hearts  they  cried 
aloud  to  the  God  of  their  fathers,  who  through  an  ordeal 
so  awful  had  brought  them,  few  as  they  were,  at .  last  to  a 
haven  of  refuge  I 

They  pushed  forward,  and  about  eleven  o'clock  in  the 
forenoon  reached  O'Rorke's  castle.  Here  they  were  gazed 
upon  as  if  they  were  objects  of  miraculous  wonder.  All 
that  generous  kindness  and  tender  sympathy  could  devise, 
was  quickly  called  to  their  aid.  Their  wounds  and  bruises 
were  tended  by  a  hundred  eager  hands.  Their  every  want 
was  anticipated.  Alas !  how  few  of  them  now  remained  to 
claim  these  kindly  offices.  Of  the  thousand  souls  who  had 
set  out  from  Glengarriffe,  not  one  hundred  entered  the 
friendly  portals  of  Brefny  Hall.  Only  thirty-five  came 
in  with  O'Sullivan  that  morning.  Of  these,  but  one  was 
a  woman  —  the  aged  mother  of  Don  Philip,  the  historian  ; 
eighteen  were  attendants  or  camp-followers,  and  only 
sixteen  were  armed  men  I  About  fifty  more  came  in  next 
day,  in  twos  and  threes,  or  were  found  by  searching 
parties  sent  out  by  O'Rorke.  All  the  rest,  except  some 
three  hundred  in  all,  who  had  strayed,  perished  on  the 
way,  by  the  sword,  or  by  the  terrible  privations  of  the 


330 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


journey.  This  retreat  was  the  last  military  achievement 
of  Donal  O'Sullivan.  Some  of  the  greatest  commanders 
in  history  might  be  proud  to  claim  an  enterprise  so  heroic 
as  their  best  title  to  the  immortality  of  fame. 


CHAPTER  LI. 

HOW  THE  GOVERNMENT  AND  HUGH  MADE  A  TREATY  OF 
PEACE.  HOW  ENGLAND  CAME  UNDER  THE  SCOTTISH 
MONARCHY;  AND  HOW  IRELAND  HOPEFULLY  HAILED 
THE  GAELIC  SOVEREIGN. 

IE  succeeding  year  (1603)  opened  upon  a  state 
of  gloom  and  incertitude  on  all  hands  in  Ire- 
land. Like  a  strong  man  overpowered,  wounded, 
and  cast  down,  after  a  protracted  and  exhausting 
struggle,  yet  still  unsubmitting  and  not  totally  reft  of 
strength,  the  hapless  Lish  nation  lay  prostrate  —  fallen 
but  unsubdued  —  unwilling  to  yield,  but  too  weak  to  rise. 
The  English  power,  on  the  other  hand,  was  not  without 
its  sense  of  exhaustion  also.  It  had  passed  through  an 
awful  crisis ;  and  had  come  out  of  the  ordeal  victorious, 
it  is  true,  but  greatly  by  happy  chance,  and  at  best  only 
by  purchasing  victory  most  dearly.  O'Neill  was  still  un- 
conquered;  and  though  the  vast  majority  of  the  lesser 
chiefs  confederated  with  him  in  the  recent  struggle,  had 
been  compelled  to  submit  and  sue  for  pardon,  O'Donnell, 
O'Rorke,  Maguire,  and  O'SuUivan,  remained  to  him ;  ^ 
and,  on  the  whole,  he  was  still  master  of  elements  capable 

1  "  AH  that  are  out  doe  seeke  for  mercy  excepting  O'Rorke  and  O'SuUi- 
van,  who  is  now  with  O'Rorke." -^ik?rcZ  Deputy  Mountjoy  to  the  Privy 
Council,  Feb.  26, 1603. 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


331 


of  being  organized  into  a  formidable  power,  perhaps  to 
renew  the  conflict  at  some  future  favourable  opportunity. 
Elizabeth  ,and  her  ministers  were  too  wise  and  prudent 
to  allow  exultation  over  their  success  to  blind  them  to  the 
fact  that  so  much  of  it  had  been  due  to  fortuitous  circum- 
stances, and  that  'twere  decidedly  better,  if  possible,  to 
avoid  having  the  combat  tried  over  again.  Mountjoy  was 
instructed  to  "  sound  "  the  defeated,  but  unsubdued  and 
still  dangerous  Tyrone  as  to  terms  of  peace  and  submis- 
sion, lest,  being  hopeless  of  "pardon  "  (as  they  put  it),  he 
might  continue  to  stand  out.  Negotiations  were  accord- 
ingly opened  with  O'Neill.  Sir  William  Godolphin  and 
Sir  Garrett  Moore  were  sent  as  commissioners  to  arrange 
with  him  the  terms  of  peace,"  the  latter  (ancestor  of  the 
present  Marquis  of  Drogheda)  being  a  warm  personal 
friend  of  O'Neill's.  ''They  found  him,"  we  are  told,  "in 
his  retreat  near  Lough  Neagh,  early  in  March,  arid  obtained 
his  promise  to  give  the  deputy  an  early  meeting  at  Melli- 
font."  "  The  negotiations,"  according  to  another  writer, 
"  were  hurried  on  the  deputy's  part  by  private  informa- 
tion which  he  had  received  of  the  queen's  death  ;  and 
fearing  that  O'Neill's  views  might  be  altered  by  that  cir- 
cumstance, he  immediately  desired  the  commissioners  to 
close  the  agreement,  and  invite  O'Neill  under  safe  conduct 
to  Drogheda  to  have  it  ratified  without  delay."  On  the 
30th  of  March,  16  .-3,  Hugh  met  Mountjoy  by  appoint- 
ment at  Mellifont  Abbey,  where  the  terms  of  peace  were 
duly  ratified  on  each  side,  O'Neill  having  on  his  part  gone 
through  the  necessary  forms  and  declarations  of  submis- 
sion. The  singularly  favourable  conditions  conceded  to 
O'Neill  show  conclusively  the  estimate  held  by  the  Eng- 
lish council  of  their  victory  over  him,  and  of  his  still  for- 
midable influence.  He  was  to  have  complete  amnesty  for 
the  past :  he  was  to  be  restored  in  blood,  notwithstanding 
his  attainder  and  outlawry  ;  he  was  to  be  reinstated  in 


332 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


his  dignity  of  Earl  of  Tyrone ;  he  and  his  people  were  to 
eii]oj  full  and  free  exercise  of  their  religion;  new  "letters- 
patent  "  were  to  issue,  regranting  to  him  and  other  north- 
ern chiefs  very  nearly  the  whole  of  the  lands  occupied  by 
their  respective  clans.  On  the  other  hand,  Hugh  was  to 
renounce  once  and  for  ever  the  title  of  "  The  O'Neill," 
should  accept  the  English  title  of  "  Earl,"  and  should 
allow  English  law  to  run  through  his  territories.^  Truly 
liberal  terms, — generous,  indeed,  they  might  under  all 
circumstances  be  called,  —  if  meant  to  be  faithfully  kept  I 
It  is  hard  to  think  O'Neill  believed  in  the  good  faith  of 
men  whose  subtle  policy  he  knew  so  well.  It  may  be 
that  he  doubted  it  thoroughly,  but  was  powerless  to 
accomplish  more  than  to  obtain  such  terms,  whatever 
their  worth  for  the  present,  trusting  to  the  future  for  the 
rest. 

Yet  it  seemed  as  if,  for  the  first  time,  a  real  and  lasting 
peace  was  at  hand.  James  the  Sixth  of  Scotland,  son  of 
the  beautiful  and  ill-fated  Mary  Queen  of  Scots,  suc- 
ceeded Elizabeth  on  the  English  throne ;  and  even  before 
his  express  declaration  of  a  conciliatory  policy  was  put 
forth,  there  ran  through  Ireland,  as  if  intuitively,  a  belief 
in  his  friendly  dispositions.  And,  in  truth,  never  before 
did  such  a  happy  opportunity  offer  for  adjusting,  at  long 
last  and  for  ever,  peacefully  and  amicably,  the  questions 
at  issue  between  Ireland  and  England.  In  James  the 
Irish  —  always  so  peculiarly  swayed  by  considerations  of 
race  or  kinship — beheld  a  Gaelic  prince,  a  king  of  the 
sister  kingdom,  Scotland,  to  whom  had  reverted  the  king- 
dom and  crown  of  England.  Kings  of  England  of  the 
now  extinct  line  had  *done  them  grievous  wrong ;  but  no 
king  of  friendly  Scotland  had  broken  the  traditional 
kindly  relations  between  Hibernia  and  Caledonia.  Tak- 


1  Mitchel, 


THE  STORY  OF  IBELANl). 


33S 


ing  King  James  the  Gael  for  a  sovereign  was  not  like  bow- 
ing the  neck  to  the  yoke  of  the  invading  Normans  or 
Tudors.  As  the  son  of  his  persecuted  mother,  he  was 
peculiarly  recommended  to  the  friendly  feelings  of  the 
Irish  people.  Mary  of  Scotland  had  much  to  entitle  her 
to  Irish  sympathy.  She  was  a  princess  of  the  royal  line 
of  Malcolm,  tracing  direct  descent  from  the  Milesian 
princes  of  Dalariada.  She  was  the  representative  of  many 
a  Scottish  sovereign  who  had  aided  Ireland  against  the 
Normans.  Moreover,  she  had  just  fallen  a  victim  to  the 
tigress  Elizabeth  of  England,  the  same  who  had  so  deeply 
reddened  with  blood  the  soil  of  Ireland.  She  had  suffered 
for  the  Catholic  faith  too  ;  and  if  aught  else  w^ere  required 
to  touch  the  Gaels  of  Ireland  with  compassion  and  sym- 
pathy, it  was  to  be  found  in  her  youth  and  beauty,  quali- 
ties which,  when  allied  with  innocence  and  misfortune, 
never  fail  to  win  the  Irish  heart.  It  was  "to  the  son  of 
such  a  woman  —  the  martyred  Mary  Queen  of  Scots  — 
that  the  English  crown  and  kingdom  had  lapsed,  and  with 
these,  such  claim  as  England  might  be  held  to  have  upon 
the  Irish  kingdom.  What  wonder  if  amongst  the  Irish  the 
idea  prevailed  that  now  at  last  they  could  heartity  offer 
loyalty  to  the  sovereign  on  the  English  throne,  and  feel 
that  he  was  neither  a  stranger  nor  a  subjugator  ? 

It  was  indeed  a  great  opportunity,  apparently  —  the 
first  that  had  ever  offered  —  for  uniting  the  three  king- 
doms under  one  crown,  without  enforcing  between  any  of 
them  the  humiliating  relations  of  conqueror  and  con- 
quered. There  can  be  no  doubt  whatever,  that,  had 
James  and  his  government  appreciated  the  peculiar  op- 
portunity, and  availed  of  it  in  a  humane,  wise,  and  gener- 
ous spirit, 

"  an  end  was  made,  and  nobly, 

Of  the  old  centennial  feud." 


334 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


The  Irish  nation,  there  is  every  ground  for  concluding, 
would  cheerfully  and  happily  have  come  in  to  the  ar- 
rangement ;  and  the  simplest  measure  of  justice  from  the 
government,  a  reasonable  consideration  for  the  national 
feelings,  rights,  and  interests,  might  have  realised  that 
dream  of  a  union  between  the  kingdoms,  which  the  com- 
pulsion of  conquest  could  never  —  can  never  —  accomplish. 
But  that  accurst  greed  of  plunder  —  that  unholy  passion 
for  Irish  spoil  —  which  from  the  first  characterised  the 
English  adventurers  in  Ireland,  and  which,  unhappily, 
ever  proved  potential  to  mar  any  comparatively  humane 
designs  of  the  king,  whenever,  if  ever,  such  designs  were 
entertained,  was  now  at  hand  to  demand  that  Ireland 
should  be  given  up  to  "  settlers,"  by  fair  means  or  by  foul, 
as  a  stranded  ship  might  be  abandoned  to  wreckers,  or  as 
a  captured  town  might  be  given  up  to  sack  and  pillage  by 
the  assaulting  soldiery.  There  is,  however,  slight  reason, 
if  any,  for  thinking  that  the  most  unworthj^  and  unnat- 
ural son  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots  —  the  pedantic  and  jDom- 
pous  James  —  entertained  any  statesmanlike  generosity 
or  justice  of  design  in  reference  to  Ireland.  The  Irish  ex- 
pectations about  him  were  doomed  to  be  wofuUy  disap- 
pointed. He  became  the  mere  creature  of  English  policy; 
and  the  Anglo-Irish  adventurers  and  settlers  "  yelling 
for  plunder,  were  able  to  force  that  policy  in  their  own 
direction.  They  grumbled  outright  at  the  favourable 
terms  of  Mountjoy's  treaty  with  O'Neill.  It  yielded  not 
one  acre  of  plunder ;  whereas,  the  teeth  of  thousands  of 
those  worthies  had  been  set  on  edge  by  the  anticipation 
of  the  rich  spoils  of  the  "confiscated"  north,  which  they 
made  sure  Avould  follow  upon  O'Neiirs  subjection.  "It 
now  seemed  as  if  the  entire  object  of  that  tremendous  war 
had  been,  on  the  part  of  England,  to  force  a  coronet  upon 
the  unwilling  brows  of  an  Irish  chieftain,  and  oblige  him 
in  his  own  despite  to  accept  '  letters  patent '  and  broad 


i:he  story  op  Ireland. 


335 


lands  'in  fee.'  Surely,  if  this  were  to  be  the  'conquest 
of  Ulster,'  if  the  rich  valleys  of  the  north,  with  all  their 
woods  and  waters,  mills  and  fishings,  were  to  be  given  up 
to  these  O'Neills  and  O'Donnells,  on  whose  heads  a  price 
had  so  lately  been  set  for  traitors ;  if,  worse  than  all^  their 
very  religion  was  to  be  tolerated,  and  Ulster,  with  its 
verdant  abbey-lands,  and  livings,  and  termon-lands,  were 
still  to  set  '  Reformation  '  at  defiance  ;  surely,  in  this  case, 
the  crowd  of  esurient  undertakers,  lay  and  clerical,  had 
ground  of  complaint.  It  was  not  for  this  they  left  their 
homes,  and  felled  forests,  and  camped  on  the  mountains, 
and  plucked  down  the  Red  Hand  from  many  a  castle  wall. 
Not  for  this  they  'preached  before  the  State  in  Christ 
Church,'  and  censured  the  backsliding  of  the  times,  and 
pointed  out  the  mortal  sin  of  a  compromise  with  Jezebel!" 

Notwithstanding  that  for  a  year  or  two  subsequent  to 
James's  accession,  the  terms  of  the  treaty  of  Mellifont 
were  in  most  part  observed  by  the  government,  O'Neill 
noted  well  the  gathering  storm  of  discontent,  to  which  he 
saw  but  too  clearly  the  government  would  succumb  at  an 
early  opportunity.  By  degrees  the  skies  began  to  lour, 
and  unerring  indications  foretold  that  a  pretext  was  being 
sought  for  his  immolation. 


336 


TEE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


CHAPTER  LII. 

THE  FLIGHT  OF  THE  EARLS."  HOW  THE  PRINCES  OF 
IRELAND  WENT  INTO  EXILE,  MENACED  BY  DESTRUC- 
TION AT  HOME. 

T  was  not  long  wanting.  An  anonymous  letter 
was  found,  or  was  pretended  to  have  been  found, 
at  the  door  of  the  council  chamber  in  Dublin  Cas- 
tle, purporting  to  disclose  with  great  circumstan- 
tiality a  conspiracy,  of  which  O'Neill  was  the  head,  to  seize 
the  Castle,  to  murder  the  Lord  Deputy,  and  raise  a  general 
revolt.^  The  most  artful  means  were  resorted  to  by  all 
whose  interest  it  was  to  procure  the  ruin  of  the  northern 
chiefs,  to  get  up  a  wild  panic  of  real  or  affected  terror  on 
this  most  opportune  discovery !  O'Neill  well  knew  the 
nature  of  the  transaction,  and  the  design  behind  it.  The 
vultures  must  have  prey  —  liis  ruin  had  become  a  state- 
necessity.  In  the  month  of  May,  he  and  the  other  north- 
ern chiefs  were  cited  to  answer  the  capital  charge  thus 
preferred  against  them.  This  they  were  ready  to  do ;  but 
the  government  plotters  were  not  just  yet  ready  to  carry 
out  their  own  schemes,  so  the  investigation  was  on  some 
slight  pretext  postponed,  and  O'Neill  and  O'Donnell  were 
ordered  to  appear  in  London  on  their  defence  at  Michael- 

1  There  seems  to  have  been  a  plot  of  some  kind  ;  but  it  was  one  got  up 
by  the  secretary  of  state,  Cecil  himself :  Lord  Howth,  his  agent  in  this 
shocking  business,  inveigling  O'Neill  and  O'Donnell  into  attendance  at 
some  of  the  meetings.  Artful  Cecil,"  says  Rev.  Dr.  Anderson,  a  Protes- 
tant divine,  in  his  Royal  Genealof/ies,  a  work  printed  in  London  in  173(), 
emploj'ed  one  St.  Lawrence  to  entrap  the  Earls  of  Tj^'one  and  Tyrcon- 
nell,  the  Lord  of  Delvin,  and  other  Irish  chiefs,  into  a  sham  plot  which  had 
no  evidence  but  his.  But  these  chiefs  being  informed  that  witnesses  were 
to  be  heard  against  them,  foolishly  fled  from  Dublin  ;  and  so  taking  their 
guilt  upon  them,  they  were  declared  rebels,  and  six  entire  counties  in  Ulster 
were  at  once  forfeited  to  the  crowm,  which  was  what  their  enemies  wanted.'^ 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


337 


mas.  There  is  little  doubt  that  hereupon,  or  about  this 
time,  O'Neill  formed  and  communicated  to  his  northern 
kinsmen  and  fellow-victims,  the  resolution  of  going  into 
exile,  and  seeking  on  some  friendly  shore  that  safety  which 
it  was  plain  he  could  hope  for  in  Ireland  no  longer.  They 
at  once  determined  to  share  his  fortunes,  and  to  take 
with  them  into  exile  their  wives,  children,  relatives,  and 
household  attendants ;  in  fine,  to  bid  an  eternal  farewell  to 
the  "fair  hills  of  holy  Ireland."  The  sad  sequel  forms 
the  subject  of  that  remarkable  work  —  "The  Flight  of  the 
Earls;  or  the  Fate  and  Fortunes  of  Tyrone  and  Tyrcon- 
nell,"  by  the  Rev.  C.  P.  Meehan,  of  Dublin;  a  work  full 
of  deep  and  sorrowful  interest  to  every  student  of  Irish 
history.  I  can  but  briefly  summarize  here,  as  closely  as 
possible  from  various  authorities,  that  mournful  chapter 
in  our  national  annals.  "  In  the  beginning  of  September, 
1607,  nearly  four  months  after  the  pretended  discovery  of 
St.  Lawrence's  plot,  O'Neill  was  at  Slane  with  the  Lord 
Deputy,  Sir  Arthur  Chichester ;  and  they  conferred  rela- 
tive to  a  journey,  which  the  former  was  to  make  to  Lon- 
don before  Michaelmas,  in  compliance  with  a  summons 
from  the  king.  While  here  a  letter  was  delivered  to 
O'Neill  from  one  John  Bath,  informing  him  that  Maguire 
had  arrived  in  a  French  ship  in  Lough  Swilly."  Sir  John 
Davis,  the  attorney-general  of  that  day,  says :  "He,  O'Neill, 
took  leave  of  the  lord  deputy,  in  a  more  sad  and  passion- 
ate manner  than  was  usual  with  him.  From  thence  he 
went  to  Mellifont,  and  Sir  Garrett  Moore's  house,  where 
he  wept  abundantly  when  he  took  his  leave,  giving  a  sol- 
emn farewell  to  every  child  and  every  servant  in  the  house, 
which  made  them  all  marvel,  because  in  general  it  was  not 
his  manner  to  use  such  compliments."  On  his  way  north- 
wards, we  are  told,  he  remained  two  days  at  his  own 
residence  in  Dungannon — it  was  hard  to  quit  the  old 
rooftree  forever !   Thence  he  proceeded  hastily  (travelling 


338 


THE  STORY  OF  IBELANB. 


all  night)  to  RathmuUen,  on  the  shore  of  Lough  Swilly, 
where  he  found  O'Donnell  and  several  of  his  friends  wait- 
ing, and  laying  up  stores  in  the  French  ship.  Amidst  a 
scene  of  bitter  anguish  the  illustrious  party  soon  embarked ; 
numbering  fifty  persons  in  all,  including  attendants  and 
domestics.  With  O'Neill,  in  that  sorrowful  company,  we 
are  told,  went  —  his  last  countess,  Catherina,  daughter  of 
Maginnis ;  his  three  sons,  Hugh,  Baron  of  Dungannon, 
John,  and  Brian ;  Art  Oge,  the  son  of  his  brother  Cormac, 
and  others  of  his  relatives ;  Ruari,  or  Roderic  O'Donnell, 
Earl  of  Tyrconnell;  Caffa  or  Cathbar,  his  brother,  and 
his  sister  Nuala,  who  was  married  to  Niall  Garve  O'Don- 
nell, but  who  abandoned  her  husband  when  he  became  a 
traitor  to  his  country;  Hugh  O'Donnell,  the  Earl's  son, 
and  other  members  of  his  family ;  Cuconnaught  Maguire, 
and  Owen  Roe  Mac  Ward,  chief  bard  of  Tyrconnell."  ''It 
is  certain,"  say  the  Four  Masters,  "  that  the  sea  has  not 
borne,  and  the  wind  has  not  wafted  in  modern  times,  a 
number  of  persons  in  one  ship,  more  eminent,  illustrious, 
or  noble  in  point  of  genealogy,  heroic  deeds,  valour,  feats 
of  arms,  and  brave  achievements,  than  they.  Would  that 
God  had  but  permitted  them,"  continue  the  old  annalists, 
"  to  remain  in  their  patrimonial  inheritances  until  the  chil- 
dren should  arrive  at  the  age  of  manhood !  Woe  to  the 
heart  that  meditated  —  woe  to  the  mind  that  conceived  — 
woe  to  the  council  that  recommended  the  project  of  this 
expedition,  without  knowing  whether  they  should  to  the 
end  of  their  lives  be  able  to  return  to  their  ancient  princi- 
palities and  patrimonies."  ''  With  gloomy  looks  and  sad 
forebodings,  the  clansmen  of  Tyrconnell  gazed  upon  that 
fated  ship,  >  built  in  th'  eclipse  and  rigged  with  curses 
dark,'  as  she  dropped  down  Lough  Swilly,  and  was  hidden 
behind  the  cliffs  of  Fanad  land.  They  never  saw  their 
chieftains  more."  ^ 


1  Mitchel. 


THE  STOBY  OF  lEELANl). 


839 


Thej"  sailed  direct  to  Normandy.  On  their  arrival  in 
France,  the  English  minister  demanded  their  surrender  as 
"  rebels ;  *'  but  Henry  the  Fourth  would  not  give  them  up. 
Passing  from  France  through  the  Netherlands,  they  were 
received  with  marked  honours  by  the  Archduke  Albert. 
In  all  the  courts  of  Europe,  as  they  passed  on  their  way 
to  the  eternal  city,  they  were  objects  of  attention,  respect, 
and  honour,  from  the  various  princes  and  potentates.  But 
it  was  in  that  Rome  to  which  from  the  earliest  date  their 
hearts  fondly  turned  — the  common  asylum  of  all  Catho- 
lics," as  it  is  called  in  the  epitaph  on  young  Hugh  O'Neill's 
tomb  —  that  the  illustrious  fugitives  were  received  with 
truest,  warmest,  and  tenderest  welcome.  Every  mark  of 
affection,  every  honourable  distinction,  was  conferred  upon 
them  by  the  venerable  Pope,  Pius  the  Fifth,  who,  in  com- 
mon with  all  the  prelates  and  princes  of  Christendom, 
regarded  them  as  confessors  of  the  faith.  In  conjunction 
with  the  king  of  Spain,  the  Holy  Father  assigned  to  each 
of  them  a  liberal  annual  pension  for  their  support  in  a 
manner  befitting  their  myal  birth  and  princely  state  in 
their  lost  country.  Through  many  a  year,  to  them,  or  to 
other  distinguished  Irish  exiles,  the  Papal  treasury  afforded 
a  generous  and  princely  bounty. 

But  those  illustrious  exiles  drooped  in  the  foreign  climes, 
and  soon,  one  by  one,  were  laid  in  foreign  graves.  Ruari, 
Earl  of  Tyrconnell,  died  on  the  28th  July,  1608.  His 
brother,  Caffar,  died  on  the  17th  of  the  following  Septem- 
ber. Maguire  died  at  Genoa  on  his  way  to  Si3ain,  on  the 
12th  of  the  previous  month  —  August,  1608.  Young 
Hugh  O'Neill,  Baron  of  Dungannon  (son  of  O'Neill),  died 
about  a  year  afterwards,  on  the  23d  September,  1609,  in 
the  twenty-fourth  year  of  his  age.  Thus,  in  the  short 
space  of  two  years  after  the  flight  from  Ireland,  the  aged 
Prince  of  Ulster  found  himself  almost  the  last  of  that 
illustrious  company  now  left  on  earth.    Bowed  down  with 


340 


mi:  STOBY  OF  IRELAND, 


years  and  sorrows,  his  soul  wrung  with  anguish  as  each 
day's  "tidings  from  distant  Ireland  brought  news  of  the 
unparalleled  miseries  and  oppressions  scourging  his  faithful 
people,  he  wandered  from  court  to  court,  eating  his 
heart,"  for  eight  j^ears.^  Who  can  imagine  or  describe 
with  what  earnest  passion  he  pleaded  with  prelates  and 
princes,  and  besought  them  to  think  upon  the  wrongs  of 
Ireland !  "  Ha  !  "  (exclaims  one  of  the  writers  from  whom 
I  have  been  summarizing),  "if  he  had  sped  in  that  mis- 
sion of  vengeance  —  if  he  had  persuaded  Paul  or  Philip 
to  give  him  some  ten  thousand  Italians  or  Spaniards,  how 
would  it  have  fluttered  those  English  in  their  dove-cots 
to  behold  his  ships  standing  up  Lough  Foyle  with  the 
Bloody  Hand  displayed.^  But  not  so  was  it  written  in  the 
Book.  No  potentate  in  Europe  was  willing  to  risk  such  a 
force  as  was  needed."  To  deepen  the  gloom  that  shrouded 
the  evening  of  his  life,  he  lost  his  sight,  became  totally 
blind  and,  like  another  Belisarius,  tottered  mournfully  to 
the  grave ;  the  world  on  this  side  of  which  was  now  in 
every  sense  all  dark  to  him.  On  the  20th  July,  1616,  the 
aged  and  heart-crushed  prince  passed  from  this  earthly 
scene  to  realms  — 

1  Of  aU  his  sons,  but  two  now  survived,  Conn  and  Henry.  The  latter 
was  page  to  the  Archduke  AU^ert  in  the  Low  Countries,  and,  like  his  father, 
was  beset  by  English  spies.  When  the  old  chieftain  died  at  Rome,  it  was 
quickly  perceived  the  removal  of  Henry  would  greatly  free  England  from 
her  nightmare  apprehensions  about  the  O'Neills.  So  the  youthful  prince 
was  one  morning- found  strangled  in  his  bed  at  Brussels.  The  murder  was 
enveloped  in  the  profoundest  mystery ;  but  no  one  was  at  a  loss  to  divine 
its  cause  and  design.  Henry  had  already,  by  his  singular  ability,  and  by 
certain  movements  duly  reported  hy  the  spies,  given  but  too  much  ground 
for  concluding  that  if  he  lived  he  would  yet  be  dangerous  in  Ireland. 

2  In  all  his  movements  on  the  continent  he  was  surrounded  hj  a  crowd 
of  English  spies,  whose  letters  and  reports,  now  in  the  State  Paper  Office, 
give  minute  and  singularly  interesting  information  respecting  his  manners, 
habits,  conversations,  etc.  One  of  them  mentions  that  in  the  evenings, 
after  dining,  if  the  aged  prince  were  *'  warm  with  wine,"  he  had  but  one 
topic  ;  his  face  would  glow,  and  striking  the  table,  he  would  assert  that 
they  would    have  a  good  day  yet  in  Ireland."   Alas  I 


THE  STORY  OF  IB  ELAND. 


841 


"  where  souls  are  free  ; 

Where  tyrants  taint  not  nature's  bliss." 

It  was  at  Rome  lie  died,  and  the  Holy  Father  ordered  him 
a  public  funeral ;  directing  arrangements  to  be  forthwith 
made  for  celebrating  his  obsequies  on  a  scale  of  grandeur 
such  as  is  accorded  only  to  royal  princes  and  kings.  The 
world,  that  bows  in  worship  before  the  altar  of  Success, 
turns  from  the  falling  and  the  fallen ;  but  Rome,  the  friend 
of  the  weak  and  the  unfortunate,  never  measured  its  honours 
to  nations  or  princes  by  the  standard  of  their  worldly 
fortunes.  So  the  English,  who  would  fain  have  stricken 
those  illustrious  fugitives  of  Ireland  from  fame  and  memory, 
as  they  had  driven  them  from  home  and  country,  gnashed 
their  teeth  in  rage,  as  they  saw  all  Christendom  assigning 
to  the  fallen  Irish  princes  an  exalted  place  amongst  the 
martyr-herqes  of  Christian  patriotism  !  On  the  hill  of  the 
Janiculum,  in  the  Franciscan  church  of  San  Pietro  di 
Montorio,  they  laid  the  Prince  of  Ulster  in  the  grave 
which,  a  few  years  before,  had  been  opened  for  his  son, 
beside  the  last  resting  place  of  the  Tyrconnell  chiefs.  Side 
by  side  they  had  fought  through  life  ;  side  by  side  they 
now  sleep  in  death.  Above  the  grave  where  rest  the  ashes 
of  those  heroes,  many  an  Irish  pilgrim  has  knelt,  and 
prayed,  and  wept.  In  the  calm  evening,  when  the  sun- 
beams slant  upon  the  stones  below,  the  Fathers  of  St. 
Francis  often  see  some  figure  prostrate  upon  the  tomb, 
which  as  often  they  find  wetted  by  the  tears  of  the  mourner. 
Then  they  know  that  some  exiled  child  of  Ireland  has 
sought  and  found  the  spot  made  sacred  and  holy  for  him 
and  all  his  nation  by  ten  thousand  memories  of  mingled 
grief  and  glory 

1  Some  eighteen  years  ago  a  horrible  desecration  well  nigh  destroyed 
for  ever  all  identification  of  the  grave  so  dear  to  Irishmen.  The  Eternal 
City  —  the  sanctuary  of  Christendom  —  was  sacrilegiously  violated  by  in- 
vaders as  lawless  and  abhorrent  as  Alaric  and  his  followers  —  the  Carbonai'i 


•342 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


There  is  not  perhaps  in  the  elegiac  poetry  of  any  lan- 
guage anything  worthy  of  comparison  with  the  Lament 
for  the  Princes  of  Tyrone  and  Tyrconnell,"  composed 
the  aged  and  venerable  bard  of  O'Donnell,  Owen  Roe 
Mac  Ward.  In  this  noble  burst  of  sorrow,  rich  in  plain- 
tive eloquence  and  in  all  the  beauty  of  true  poesy,  the 
bard  addresses  himself  to  Lady  Nuala  O'Donnell  and  her 
attendant  mourners  at  the  grave  of  the  princes.  Happily, 
of  this  peerless  poem  we  possess  a  translation  into  English, 
of  which  it  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  it  is  in  every  sense 
worthy  of  the  original,  to  which  it  adheres  with  great 
fidelity,  while  preserving  all  the  spirit  and  tenderness  of 
the  Gaelic  idiom.  I  allude  to  Mangan's  admirable  trans- 
lation, from  which  I  take  the  following  passages  :  — 

O  woman  of  the  piercing  wail ! 

Who  mournest  o'er  yon  mound  of  clay 
With  sigh  and  groan, 
Would  God  thou  wert  among  the  Gael ! 
Thou  wouldst  not  then  from  day  to  day 
Weep  thus  alone. 
'T  were  long  before,  around  a  grave 
In  green  Tyrconnell,  one  would  find 
This  loneliness ; 
Near  where  Beann-Boirche's  banners  wave, 
Such  grief  as  thine  could  ne'er  have  pined 
Companionless. 

of  modern  Europe,  led  by  Mazzini  and  Garibaldi.  The  churches  were 
profaned,  the  tombs  were  rifled,  and  the  church  of  San  Pietro  di  Montorio 
icas  converted  by  Garibaldi  into  cavalry  stables  !  The  trampling  of  the  liorses 
destroyed  or  effaced  many  of  the  tombstones,  and  tlie  Irisli  in  the  citj"  gave 
up  all  hope  of  safety  for  the  one  so  sacred  in  their  eyes.  Happily,  however, 
when  Rome  had  been  rescued  by  France  on  behalf  of  the  Christian  world, 
and  when  the  filth  and  litter  had  been  cleared  away  from  the  desecrated 
church,  the  tomb  of  the  Irish  i:)rinces  was  found  to  have  escaped  with  very 
little  permanent  injury.  Some  there  are,  who,  perhaps,  do  not  understand 
the  sentiment  —  the  i:)rinciple  —  which  claims  Eome  as  belonging  to  Chris- 
tendom—  not  to  "  Italy,"  or  France,  or  Austria,  or  Naples.  But  in  truth 
and  fact,  Kome  represents  not  only  God's  acre  "  of  the  world,  but  is  the 
repository  of  priceless  treasures,  gifts,  and  relics-,  which  belong  in  common 
to  all  Christian  peoples,  and  which  they  are  bound  to  guard. 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


"  Beside  the  wave,  in  Donegal, 

In  Antrim's  glens,  or  fair  Dromore, 
Or  Killilee, 
Or  where  the  sunny  waters  fall 
At  Assaroe,  near  Erna's  shore, 
This  could  not  be. 
On  Derry's  plains,  —  in  rich  DrunicliefP,  — 
Throughout  Armagh  the  Great,  renowned 
In  olden  years, 
No  day  could  pass,  but  woman's  grief 
Would  rain  upon  the  burial-ground 
Fresh  floods  of  tears  ! 

"  O  no  !  —  from  Shannon,  Boyne,  and  Suir, 
From  high  Dunluce's  castle  walls, 
From  Lissadill, 
Would  flock  alike  both  rich  and  poor. 

One  wail  would  rise  from  Cruachan's  halls 
To  Tara's  hill ; 
And  some  would  come  from  Barrow  side, 
And  many  a  maid  would  leave  her  home 
On  Leitrim's  plains. 
And  by  melodious  Banna's  tide. 

And  by  the  ^lourne  and  Erne,  to  come 
And  swell  thy  strains  ! 


Two  princes  of  the  line  of  Conn 
Sleep  in  their  cells  of  clay  beside 
O 'Don n ell  Koe  ; 
Three  royal  youths,  alas  !  are  gone. 
Who  lived  for  Erin's  weal,  but  died 
For  Erin's  woe  ! 
Ah  !  could  the  men  of  Ireland  read 
The  names  these  noteless  burial  stones 
Display  to  .view, 
Their  wounded  hearts  afresh  would  bleed, 
Their  tears  gush  forth  again,  their  groans 
Resound  anew ! 


344 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


"  And  who  can  marvel  o'er  thy  grief, 
Or  who  can  blame  thy  flowing  tears, 
That  knows  their  source  ? 
O'Donnell,  Dunnasava's  chief, 
Cut  off  amid  his  vernal  years, 
Lies  here  a  corse, 
Beside  his  brother  Cathbar,  whom 
Tirconnell  of  the  Helmets  mourns 
In  deep  despair  — 
For  valour,  truth,  and  comely  bloom, 
For  all  that  greatens  and  adorns, 
A  peerless  pair. 


"  When  high  the  shout  of  battle  rose 

On  fields  where  Freedom's  torch  still  burned 
Through  Erinn's  gloom, 
If  one  —  if  barely  one  —  of  those 
Were  slain,  all  Ulster  would  have  mourned 
The  hero's  doom  ! 
If  at  Athboy,  where  hosts  of  brave 
Ulidian  horsemen  sank  beneath 
The  shock  of  spears. 
Young  Hugh  O'Xeill  had  found  a  grave, 
Long  must  the  North  have  wept  his  death 
With  heart- wrung  tears ! 


"  \Yhat  do  I  say  ?    Ah,  woe  is  me  I 
Already  we  bewail  in  vain 
Their  fatal  fall ! 
And  Erinn,  once  the  Great  and  Free, 
Now  vainly  mourns  her  breakless  chain 
And  iron  thrall ! 
Then,  daughter  of  O'Donnell,  dry 
Thine  overflowing  eyes,  and  turn 
Thy  heart  aside, 
For  Adam's  race  is  born  to  die, 
And  sternly  the  sepulchral  urn 
Mocks  human  pride ! 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


345 


"Look  not,  nor  sigh,  for  earthly  throne, 
Nor  place  thy  trust  m  arm  of  clay ; 
But  on  thy  knees 
Uplift  thy  soul  to  God  alone, 

For  all  things  go  their  destined  way 
As  He  decrees. 
Embrace  the  faithful  crucifix, 
And  seek  the  path  of  pain  and  prayer 
Thy  Saviour  trod ; 
Nor  let  thy  spirit  intermix 

With  earthly  hope  and  worldly  care 
Its  groans  to  God ! 

"  And  Thou,  O  mighty  Lord  !  whose  ways 
Are  far  above  our  feeble  minds 
To  understand ; 
Sustain  us  in  those  doleful  days, 

And  render  light  the  chain  that  binds 
Our  fallen  land ! 
Look  down  upon  our  dreary  state, 
And  through  the  ages  that  may  still 
Roll  sadly  on. 
Watch  Thou  o'er  hapless  Erinn's  fate. 
And  shield  at  last  from  darker  ill 
The  blood  of  Conn !  " 

There  remains  now  but  to  trace  the  fortunes  of  O'Sul- 
livan,  the  last  of  O^Neill's  illustrious  companions  in  arms. 
The  special  vengeance  of  England  marked  Donal  for  a 
fatal  distinction  among  his  fellow  chiefs  of  the  ruined 
confederacy.  He  was.  not  included  in  the  amnesty  settled 
by  the  treaty  of  Mellifont.  We  may  be  sure  it  was  a  sore 
thought  for  O'Neill  that  he  could  not  obtain  for  a  friend 
so  true  and  tried  as  O'SuUivan,  participation  in  the  terms 
granted  to  himself  and  other  of  the  Northern  chieftains. 
But  the  government  was  inexorable.  The  Northerns  had 
yet  some  power  left ;  from  the  Southern  chiefs  there  now 
was  nought  to  fear.  So,  we  are  told,  there  was  no  par- 
don for  O'SuUivan."     Donal   accompanied  O'Neill  to 


346 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


London  the  year  succeeding  James's  accession ;  but  he 
could  obtain  no  relaxation  of  the  policy  decreed  against 
him.  He  returned  to  Ireland  only  to  bid  it  an  eternal 
farewell !  Assembling  all  that  now  remained  to  him  of 
family  and  kindred,  he  sailed  for  Spain  A.D.  1604.  He 
was  received  with  all  honour  by  King  Philip,  who  forth- 
with created  him  a  grandee  of  Spain,  knight  of  the 
military  order  of  St.  lago,  and  subsequently  Earl  of  Bear- 
haven.  The  king,  moreover,  assigned  to  him  a  pension 
of  "three  hundred  pieces  of  gold  monthly."  The  end  of 
this  illustrious  exile  w^as  truly  tragic.  His  young  son, 
Donal,  had  a  quarrel  with  an  ungrateful  Anglo-Irishman 
named  Bath,  to  whom  the  old  chief  had  been  a  kind  bene- 
factor. Young  Donal's  cousin,  Philip  —  the  author  of  the 
Ilistorice  Catholicce  Ibernice  —  interfered  with  mediative 
intentions,  when  Bath  drew  his  sword,  uttering  some 
grossly  insulting  observations  against  the  O'SuUivans. 
Philip  and  he  at  once  attacked  each  other,  but  the  former 
soon  overpowered  Bath,  and  would  have  slain  him  but  for 
the  interposition  of  friends ;  for  all  this  had  occurred  at 
a  royal  monastery  in  the  suburbs  of  Madrid,  within  the 
precincts  of  which  it  was  a  capital  offence  to  engage  in 
such  a  combat.  The  parties  were  separated.  Bath  was 
drawn  off,  wounded  in  the  face,  when  he  espied  not  far 
off  the  old  chieftain,  O'Sullivan  Beare,  returning  from 
Mass,  at  which  that  morning,  as  was  his  wont,  he  had  re- 
ceived Holy  Communion.  He  was  pacing  slowly  along, 
unaware  of  what  had  happened.  His  head  was  bent  upon 
his  breast,  he  held  in  his  hands  his  gloves  and  his  rosary 
beads,  and  appeared  to  be  engaged  in  mental  prayer. 
Bath,  filled  with  fury,  rushed  suddenly  behind  the  aged 
lord  of  Bear,  and  ran  him  through  the  body.  O'Sullivan 
fell  to  earth  ;  they  raised  him  up  —  he  was  dead.  Thus 
mournfully  perished,  in  the  fift3^-seventh  year  of  his  age, 
Donal,  the  "  Last  Lord  of  Beare,"  as  he  is  most  frequently 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND, 


347 


styled,  a  man  whose  personal  virtues  and  public  worth 
won  for  him  the  esteem  and  affection  of  all  his  contem- 
poraries. 

His  nephew  Philip  became  an  officer  in  the  Spanish 
navy,  and  is  known  to  literary  fame  as  the  author  of  the 
standard  work  of  history  which  bears  his  name,  as  well 
as  of  several  publications  of  lesser  note.  Young  Donal, 
son  of  the  murdered  chieftain,  entered  the  army  and  fell 
at  Belgrade,  fighting  against  the  Turks.  The  father  of 
Philip  the  historian  (Dermod,  brother  of  Donal  Prince 
of  Bear),  died  at  Corunna,  at  the  advanced  age  of  a  hun- 
dred years,  and  was  followed  to  the  grave  soon  after  by 
his  long-wedded  wife, 

"  Two  pillars  of  a  ruined  aisle  —  two  old  trees  of  the  land; 
Two  voyagers  on  a  sea  of  grief  ;  long  suff'rers  hand  in  hand.'* 


CHAPTER  LIII. 

A  MEMORABLE  EPOCH.  HOW  MILESIAN  IRELAND  FINAL- 
LY DISAPPEARED  FROM  HISTORY  ;  AND  HOW  A  NEW 
IRELAND  —  IRELAND  IN  EXILE  —  APPEARED  FOR  THE 
FIRST  TIME.  HOW  "PLANTATIONS"  OF  FOREIGNERS 
WERE  DESIGNED  FOR  THE  "  COLONIZATION  "  OF  IRE- 
LAND, AND  THE  EXTIRPATION  OF  THE  NATIVE  RACE. 

HAVE  narrated  at  very  considerable  length  the 
events  of  that  period  of  Irish  history  with  which 
the  name  of  Hugh  O'Neill  is  identified.  I  have 
done  so,  because  that  era  was  one  of  most  peculiar 
importance  to  Ireland;  and  it  is  greatly  necessary  for  Irish- 
men to  fully  understand  and  appreciate  the  momentous 


348 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


meaning  of  its  results.  The  war  of  1699-1602  was  the 
last  struggle  of  the  ancient  native  rule  to  sustain  itself 
against  the  conquerors  and  the  jurisdiction  of  their  civil 
and  religious  code.  Thenceforth  —  at  least  for  two  hun- 
dred years  subsequently  —  the  wars  in  Ireland  which 
eventuated  in  completing  the  spoliation,  ruin,  and  ex- 
tinction of  the  native  nobility,  were  wars  in  behalf  of  the 
English  sovereign  as  the  rightful  sovereign  of  Ireland  also. 
Never  more  in  Irish  history  do  we  find  the  authority  of 
the  ancient  native  dynasties  set  up,  recognized,  and  obeyed. 
Never  more  do  we  find  the  ancient  laws  and  judicature 
undisturbedly  prevailing  in  any  portion  of  the  land.  With 
the  flight  of  the  Northern  chieftains  all  claims  of  ancient 
native  dynasties  to  sovereignty  of  power,  rights,  or  priv- 
ileges disappeared,  never  once  to  re-appear ;  and  the 
ancient  laws  and  constitution  of  Ireland,  the  venerable 
code  that  had  come  down  inviolate  through  the  space  of 
fifteen  hundred  years,  vanished  totally  and  for  ever ! 
Taking  leave,  therefore,  of  the  chapter  of  history  to  which 
I  have  devoted  so  much  space,  we  bid  farewell  to  Milesian 
Ireland  —  Ireland  claiming  to  be  ruled  by  its  own  native 
princes,  and  henceforth  have  to  deal  with  Ireland  as  a 
kingdom  subject  to  the  Scotto-English  sovereign.  . 

The  date  at  which  we  have  arrived  is  one  most  remark- 
able in  our  history  in  other  respects  also.  If  it  witnessed 
the  disappearance  of  Milesian  Ireland,  it  witnessed  the 
first  appearance  in  history  of  that  other  Ireland,  which 
from  that  day  to  the  present  has  been  in  so  great  a  degree 
the  hope  and  the  glory  of  the  parent  nation  —  a  rainbow 
set  in  the  tearful  sky  of  its  captivity  —  Ireland  in  exile! 
In  the  beginning  of  the  seventeenth  century  "the  Irish 
abroad  "  are  first  heard  of  as  a  distinct  political  element. 
The  new  power  thus  born  into  the  world  was  fated  to 
perform  a  great  and  marvellous  part  in  the  designs  of 
Providence.    It  has  endured  through  the  shock  of  centu- 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


349 


ries  —  has  outlived  the  rise  and  fall  of  dynasties  and 
states  —  has  grown  into  gigantic  size  and  shape ;  and  in 
the  influence  it  exercises  at  this  moment  on  the  course 
and  policy  of  England,  affords,  perhaps,  the  most  remark- 
able illustration  recorded  outside  Holy  Writ,  of  the  inevi- 
tability of  retributive  justice.  To  expel  the  people  of 
Ireland  from  their  own  country,  to  thrust  them  out  as 
outcast  wanderers  and  exiles  all  over  the  world  —  to  seize 
their  homes  and  possess  their  heritage,  will  be  found  to 
have  been  for  centuries  the  policy,  the  aim,  and  untiring 
endeavour  of  the  English  government.  The  scheme  which 
we  are  about  to  see  King  James  prosecuting  (Munster 
witnessed  its  inauguration  in  the  previous  reign)  has  ever 
since  haunted  the  English  mind ;  namely,  the  expulsion 
of  the  native  Irish  race,  and  the  planting  "  or  "  coloniz- 
ing "  of  their  country  by  English  settlers.  The  history  of 
the  world  has  no  parallel  for  such  a  design,  pursued  so 
relentlessly  through  such  a  great  space  of  time.  But  God 
did  not  more  signally  preserve  His  chosen  people  of  the 
Old  Law  than  He  has  preserved  the  Irish  nation  in  cap- 
tivity and  in  exile.  They  have  not  melted  away,  as  the 
calculations  of  their  evicters  anticipated.  They  have  not 
become  fused  or  transformed  by  time  or  change.  They 
have  not  perished  where  all  ordinary  probabilities  threat- 
ened to  the  human  race  impossibility  of  existence.  Pros- 
perity and  adversity  in  their  new  homes  have  alike  failed 
to  kill  in  their  hearts  the  sentiment  of  nationality,  the  holy 
love  of  Ireland,  the  resolution  of  fulfilling  their  destiny 
as  the  Heraclidse  of  modern  history.  They  preserve  to- 
day, all  over  the  world,  their  individuality  as  markedly  as 
the  children  of  Israel  did  theirs  in  Babylon  or  in  Egypt. 

The  flight  of  the  earls  threw  all  the  hungry  adventurers 
into  ecstacies !  Now,  at  least,  there  would  be  plunder. 
The  vultures  flapped  their  wings  and  whetted  their  beaks. 


850 


THE  STOBY  OF  lEELANI). 


Prey  in  abundance  was  about  to  be  flung  them  by  the 
royal  hand.  To  help  still  further  the  schemes  of  confisca- 
tion now  being  matured  in  Dublin  Castle,  Sir  Cahir 
O'Doherty  —  who  had  been  a  queen's  man  most  dutifully 
so  far  —  was  skilfully  pushed  into  a  revolt  which  afforded 
the  necessary  pretext  for  adding  the  entire  peninsula  of 
Innishowen  to  the  area  of  plantation."  Ulster  was  now 
parcelled  out  into  lots,  and  divided  among  court  favourites 
and  clamouring  "undertakers;"  the  owners  and  occupiers, 
the  native  inhabitants,  being  as  little  regarded  as  the  wild 
grouse  on  the  hills  !  The  guilds,  or  trade  companies  of 
London,  got  a  vast  share  of  plunder ;  something  like  one 
hundred  and  ten  thousand  acres  of  the  richest  lands  of  the 
O'Neills  and  O'Donnells  —  lands  which  the  said  London 
companies  hold  to  this  day.  To  encourage  and  maintain 
these  ''plantations,"  various  privileges  were  conferred 
upon  or  offered  to  the  "  colonists ; "  the  conditions  re- 
quired of  them  on  the  other  hand  being  simply  to  exclude 
or  kill  off  the  owners,  to  hunt  down  the  native  population 
as  they  would  any  other  wild  game ;  and,  above  all,  to 
banish  and  keep  out  ''  Popery."  Li  fine,  they  and  their 
"  heirs,  executors,  administrators,  and  assigns,"  were  to 
garrison  the  country  —  to  consider  themselves  a  standing 
army  of  occupation  in  the  English  Protestant  interest. 

For  two  hundred  years  of  history  we  shall  find  that 
"colonized"  province,  and  the  "colonists"  generally,  en- 
dowed, nursed,  petted,  protected,  privileged  —  the  especial 
care  of  the  English  government  —  whilst  the  hapless  native 
population  were,  during  the  same  period,  proscribed,  "dead 
in  law,"  forbidden  to  trade,  forbidden  to  educate,  forbid- 
den to  own  property  ;  for  each  which  prohibition,  and 
many  besides  to  a  like  intent,  acts  of  parliament,  with 
"  day  and  date,  word  and  letter,"  may  be  cited. 

So  great  was  the  excitement  created  amongst  the  needy 
and  greedy  of  all  classes  in  England  by  the  profuse  dis- 


THE  STORY  OF  IBELANB. 


351 


pensations  of  splendid  estates,  rich,  fertile,  and  almost  at 
their  own  doors,  that  the  millions  of  acres  in  Ulster  were 
soon  all  gone ;  and  still  there  were  crowds  of  hungry  ad- 
venturers yelling  for  "more,  more!  "  James  soon  found 
a  way  for  providing  ''more."  He  constituted  a  roving 
commission^  of  inquiry  into  "defective  titles,"  as  he  was 
pleased  to  phrase  it  —  a  peripatetic  inquisition  on  the 
hunt  for  spoil.  The  commissioners  soon  reported  385,000 
acres  in  Leinster  as  "discovered,"  inasmuch  as  the  "titles" 
were  not  such  as  ought  (in  their  judgment)  to  stand  in 
the  way  of  his  majesty's  designs.  The  working  of  this 
commission  need  scarcely  be  described.  Even  the  histo- 
rian, Leland,  who  would  have  been  its  apologist  if  he 
could,  tells  us  there  were  not  wanting  "  proofs  of  the  most 
iniquitous  practices,  of  hardened  cruelty,  of  vile  perjury, 
and  scandalous  subornation,  employed  to  despoil  the  un- 
fortunate proprietor  of  his  inheritance."  Old  and  obsolete 
claims,  we  are  told,  some  of  them  dating  as  far  back  as 
Henry  the  Second,  were  revived,  and  advantage  was 
taken  of  the  most  trivial  flaws  and  minute  informalities. 
In  the  midst  of  his  plundering  and  colonizing  James  died, 
27th  March,  1625,  and  was  succeeded  by  his  son,  Charles. 
Bitterly  as  the  Irish  Catholics  had  been  undeceived  as  to 
James's  friendly  dispositions,  they  gave  themselves  up 
more  warmly  than  ever  to  the  belief  that  the  young  prince 
now  just  come  to  the  throne  would  afford  them  justice, 
tolerance,  and  protection.  And  here  we  hav^e  to  trace  a 
chapter  of  crudest  deceit,  fraud,  and  betrayal  of  a  too 
confiding  people.  The  king  and  his  favourite  ministers 
secretly  encouraged  these  expectations.  Charles  needed 
money  sorely,  and  his  Irish  representative.  Lord  Faulk- 
land,  told  the  Catholic  lords  that  if  they  would  present  to 
his  majesty,  as  a  voluntary  subsidy,  a  good  round  sum  of 
money,  he  would  grant  them  certain  protections  or  immu- 
nities, called  "royal  graces"  in  the  records  of  the  time. 


852 


TUB  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


"  The  more  important  were  those  which  provided  '  that 
recusants  should  be  allowed  to  practise  in  the  courts  of 
law,  and  to  sue  out  the  livery  of  their  lands  on  taking  an 
oath  of  civil  allegiance  in  lieu  of  the  oath  of  supremacy ; 
that  the  undertakers  in  the  several  plantations  should 
have  time  allowed  them  to  fulfil  the  condition  of  their 
tenures ;  that  the  claims  of  the  crown  should  be  limited 
to  the  last  sixty  years ;  and  that  the  inhabitants  of  Con- 
naught  should  be  permitted  to  make  a  new  enrolment  of 
their  estates.'  The  contract  was  duly  ratified  by  a  royal 
proclamation,  in  which  the  concessions  were  accompanied 
by  a  promise  that  a  parliament  should  be  held  to  confirm 
them.  The  first  instalment  of  the  money  was  paid,  and 
the  Irish  agents  returned  home,  but  only  to  learn  that  an 
order  had  been  issued  against  '  the  Popish  regular  clergy,' 
and  that  the  royal  promise  was  to  be  evaded  in  the  most 
shameful  manner.  When  the  Catholics  pressed  for  the 
fulfilment  of  the  compact,  the  essential  formalities  for 
calling  an  Irish  parliament  were  found  to  have  been 
omitted  by  the  oflicials,  and  thus  the  matter  fell  to  the 
ground  for  the  present."  ^ 

In  other  words,  the  Irish  Catholics  were  royally  swin- 
dled. The  miserable  Charles  pocketed  the  money,  and 
then  pleaded  that  certain  of  the  "  graces  "  were  very  un- 
reasonable." He  found  that  already  the  mere  suspicion 
of  an  inclination  on  his  part  to  arrest  the  progress  of  per- 
secution and  plunder,  was  arousing  and  inflaming  against 
him  the  fanatical  Calvinistic  section  of  English  Protes- 
tantism, while  his  high-handed  assertions  of  royal  preroga- 
tive were  daily  bringing  him  into  more  dangerous  conflict 
with  his  English  parliament.  To  complete  the  complica- 
tions surrounding  him,  the  attempts  to  force  Episcopalian 
Protestantism  on  the  Calvinistic  Scots  led  to  open  revolt. 


1  M'Gee. 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


353 


A  Scottish  rebel  army^  took  the  field,  demanding  that  the 
attempt  to  extend  Episcopacy  into  Scotland  should  be 
given  up,  and  that  Calvinistic  Presbyterianism  should  be 
acknowledged  as  the  established  religion  of  that  kingdom. 
Charles  marshalled  an  army  to  march  against  them.  The 
parliament  would  not  vote  him  supplies  — indeed  the  now 
dominant  party  in  parliament  sympathised  with  and  en- 
couraged the  rebels ;  but  Charles,  raising  money  as  best 
he  could,  proceeded  northward.  Nevertheless,  he  appears 
to  have  recoiled  from  the  idea  of  spilling  the  blood  of  his 
countrymen  for  a  consideration  of  spiritual  supremacy. 
He  came  to  an  arrangement  with  the  rebel  ''Covenanters" 
granting  to  them  the  liberty  of  conscience  —  naj%  religious 
supremacy  —  which  they  demanded,  and  even  paying  their 
army  for  a  portion  of  the  time  it  was  under  service  in  the 
rebellion. 

All  this  could  not  fail  to  attract  the  deepest  attention 
of  the  Irish  Catholic  nobility  and  gentry,  who  found  them- 
selves in  far  worse  plight  than  that  which  had  moved  the 
Calvinistic  Scots  to  successful  rebellion.  Much  less  indeed 
than  had  been  conceded  to  the  rebel  Covenanters  w®uld 
satisfy  them.  They  did  not  demand  that  the  Catholic 
religion  should  be  set  up  as  the  established  creed  in  Ire- 
land ;  they  merely  asked  that  the  sword  of  persecution 
should  not  be  bared  against  it ;  and  for  themselves  they 
sought  nothing  beyond  protection  as  good  citizens  in 
person  and  property,  and  simple  equality  of  civil  rights. 
Wentworth,  Charles's  representative  in  Ireland,  had  been 
pursuing  against  them  a  course  of  the  most  scandalous 
and  heartless  robbery,  pushing  on  the  operations  of  the 
commission  of  inquiry  into  defective  titles.  "  He  com- 
menced the  work  of  plunder  with  Roscommon,  and  as  a 
preliminary  step,  directed  the  sheriff  to  select  such  jurors 

1  Often  caUed  "Covenanters,"  from  their  demands  or  articles  of  confed- 
eration in  the  rebeUion  being  caUed  their  "  solemn  league  and  covenant." 


354 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


as  might  be  made  amenable,  '  in  case  they  should  pre- 
varicate ; '  or,  in  other  words,  they  might  be  ruined  by 
enormous  fines  ^  if  they  refused  to  find  a  verdict  for  the  king. 
The  jurors  were  told  that  the  object  of  the  commission 
was  to  find  '  a  clear  and  undoubted  title  in  the  crown  to 
the  province  of  Connaught,'  and  to  make  them  'a  civil 
and  rich  people  '  by  means  of  a  plantation  ;  for  which 
purpose  his  majesty  should,  of  course,  have  the  lands  in 
his  own  hands  to  distribute  to  fit  and  proper  persons. 
Under  threats  which  could  not  be  misunderstood,  the 
jurj^  found  for  the  king,  whereupon  Wentworth  com- 
mended the  foreman,  Sir  Lucas  Dillon,  to  his  majesty,  that 
'he  might  be  remembered  w^ow  the  dividing  of  the  lands,' 
and  also  obtained  a  competent  reward  for  the  judge^. 

"  Similar  means  had  a  like  success  in  ^Nlayo  and  Sligo  ; 
but  when  it  came  to  the  turn  of  the  more  wealthy  and 
populous  county  of  Galway,  the  jury  refused  to  sanction 
the  nefarious  robbery  by  their  verdict.  Wentworth  was 
furious  at  this  rebuff,  and  the  unhappj' jurors  were  punished 
without  mercy  for  their  '  contumac3\'  They  were  com- 
pelled to  appear  in  the  castle  chamber,  where  each  of  them 
was  fined  four  thousand  pounds,  and  their  estates  were 
seized  and  they  themselves  imprisoned  until  these  fines 
should  be  paid,  while  the  sheriff  was  fined  four  thousand 
pounds,  and  being  unable  to  pay  that  sum  died  in  prison. 
Wentworth  proposed  to  seize  the  lands,  not  only  of  the 
jurors,  but  of  all  tl^e  gentry  who  neglected  '  to  lay  hold 
on  his  majesty's  grace ; '  he  called  for  an  increase  of  the 
army  'until  the  intended  plantation  should  be  settled,' 
and  recommended  that  the  counsel  who  argued  the  cases 
against  the  king  before  the  commissioners  should  be  si- 
lenced until  they  took  the  oath  of  supremacy,  which  was 
accordingly  done.  '  The  gentlemen  of  Connaught,'  says 
Carte  (^Life  of  Ormonde  vol.  i.),  'laboured  under  a  partic- 
ular hardship  on  this  occasion;   for  their  not  having 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


355 


enrolled  their  patents  and  surrenders  of  the  13th  Jacobi 
(which  was  what  alone  rendered  their  titles  defective) 
was  not  their  fault,  but  the  neglect  of  a  clerk  entrusted 
by  them.  For  they  had  paid  near  three  thousand  pounds 
to  the  officers  in  Dublin  for  the  enrolment  of  these  sur- 
renders and  patents,  which  was  never  made.'  "  ^ 

Meanwhile,  as  I  have  already  described,  the  Scots, 
whose  grievances  "  were  in  nowise  to  be  compared  with 
these,  had  obtained  full  redress  by  an  armed  demonst^i^a- 
tion.  It  was  not  to  be  expected  in  the  nature  of  things, 
t  hat  events  so  suggestive  would  be  thrown  away  on  the 
spoliated  Catholic  nobles  and  gentry  of  Ireland.  Accord- 
ingly, we  find  them  about  this  period  conferring,  confed- 
erating, or  conspiring,  on  the  basis  of  an  Irish  and  Catholic 
solemn  league  and  covenant "  —  of  much  more  modest 
pretensions,  however,  than  the  Scottish  Calvinistic  origi- 
nal. Their  movement  too  was  still  more  notably  distin- 
guished from  that  demonstration  by  the  most  emphatic  and 
explicit  loyalty  to  the  king,  whom  indeed  they  still  cred- 
ited with  just  and  tolerant  dispositions,  if  freed  from  the 
restraint  of  the  persecuting  Puritan  faction.  They  saw 
too  that  the  king  and  the  parliament  were  at  utter  issue, 
and  judged  that  by  a  bold  cokj?  they  might  secure  for 
themselves  royal  recognition  and  support,  and  turn  the 
scale  against  their  bitter  foes  and  the  king's. 

Moreover,  by  this  time  the  other  Irish  nation  "  —  the 
Irish  abroad,"  had  grown  to  be  a  power.  Already  the 
exiles  on  the  continent  possessed  ready  to  hand  a  con- 
siderable military  force,  and  a  goodly  store  of  money, 
arms,  and  ammunition.  For  they  had  "not  forgotten  Je- 
rusalem," and  Avherever  they  served  or  fought,  they  never 
gave  up  that  hope  of  "  a  good  day  yet  in  Ireland."  The 
English  State  Paper  Office  holds  several  of  the  letters  or 


1  Haverty. 


356 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


reports  of  the  spies  retained  by  the  government  at  this 
time  to  watch  their  movements ;  and,  singularly  enough, 
these  documents  describe  to  us  a  state  of  things  not  unlike 
that  existing  at  this  day,  towards  the  close  of  the  nine- 
teenth century !  —  the  Irish  in  exile,  organized  in  the 
design  of  returning  and  liberating  their  native  land,  assess- 
ing themselves  out  of  their  scanty  pay  for  contributions  to  the 
general  fund!^    The  Irish  abroad  had  moreover,  what 


1  Mr.  Haverty  the  historian  quotes  one  of  these  "  reports  which,  as  he 
says,  was  first  brought  to  light  in  the  Nation  newspaper  of  5th  Februarj^, 
1859,  having  been  copied  from,  the  original  in  the  State  Paper  Office.  It  is  a 
list  or  return  of  the  names  of  the  dangerous  "  Irish  abroad,  supplied  by  one 
of  the  English  spies,  The  list  begins  with  Don  Richardo  Burke,  *  a  man 
much  experienced  in  martial  affairs,'  and  '  a  good  iuginiere.'  He  served 
many  years  under  the  Spaniards  in  Naples  and  the  West  Indies,  and  was  the 
governor  of  Leghorn  for  the  Duke  of  Florence.  Next,  '  Phellomy  O'Neill, 
nephew  unto  old  Tyrone,  liveth  in  great  respect  (in  Milan),  and  is  a  captain 
of  a  troop  of  horse.'  Then  come  James  Rowthe  or  Rothe,  an  alfaros  or 
standard-bearer  in  the  Spanish  army,  and  his  brother  Captain  John  Rothe, 
*  a  pensioner  in  Naples,  who  carried  Tyrone  out  of  Ireland.'  One  Captain 
Solomon  Mac  Da,  a  Geraldine,  resided  at  Florence,  and  Sir  Thomas  Talbot, 
a  knight  of  Malta,  and  *  a  resolute  and  well-beloved  man,'  lived  at  Naples, 
in  which  latter  city  *  there  were  some  other  Irish  cai)tains  and  officers.'  The 
list  then  proceeds.  '  In  Spain  Captain  Phellomy  Cavanagh,  son-in-law  to 
Donell  Spaniagh,  serveth  under  the  king  by  sea;  Captain  Somlevayne  (O'Sul- 
livan),  a  man  of  noted  courage.  These  live  commonly  at  Lisbonne,  and 
are  sea-captains.  Besides  others  of  the  Irish,  Captain  DriscoU,  the  youngei*, 
Sonne  to  old  Captain  Driscoll;  both  men  reckoned  valourous.  In  the  court 
of  Spaine  liveth  the  sonne  of  Richard  Burke,  which  was  nephew  untoe 
William,  who  died  at  Valladolid  ....  he  is  in  high  favour  with  the  king, 
and  (as  it  is  reported)  is  to  be  made  a  marquis;  Captain  Toby  Bourke,  a  pen- 
sioner in  the  court  of  Spain,  another  nephew  of  the  said  William,  deceased; 
Captain  John  Bourke  M'Shane,  who  served  long  time  in  Flanders,  and  now 
liveth  on  his  pension  assigned  on  the  Groyne.  Captain  Daniell,  a  pensioner 
at  Antwerp.  In  the  Low  Countries,  under  the  Archduke,  John  O'Neill, 
sonne  of  the  arch-traitor  Tyrone,  colonel  of  the  Irish  regiment.  Young 
O'Donnell,  sonne  of  the  late  traitorous  Earl  of  Tirconnell.  Owen  O'Neill 
(Owen  Roe),  serjeant-major  (equivalent  to  the  present  lieutenant-colonel) 
of  the  Irish  regiment.  Captain  Art  O'Neill,  Captain  Cormac  O'Neill,  Cap- 
tain Donel  O'Donel,  Captain  Thady  O'Sullivane,  Captain  Preston,  Captain 
Fitz  Gerrott;  old  Captain  Fitz  Gerrott  rontinues  serjeant-major,  now  a  pen- 
sioner; Captain  Edraond  O  Mor,  Captain  Bryan  O'Kelly,  Captain  Stani- 
hurst.  Captain  Corton,  Captain  Daniell,  Captain  Walshe.  There  are  diverse 
other  captaines  and  officers  of  the  Irish  under  the  Archduchess  (Isabella), 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


357 


greatly  enhanced  their  military  influence — prestige.  Al- 
ready, they  had  become  honourably  known  as  ''bravest  of 
the  brave"  on  the  battle-fields  of  Spain,  France,  and  the 
Netherlands. 

Communications  were  at  once  opened  between  the 
exiles  and  the  confederates  at  home,  the  chief  agent  or 
promoter  of  the  movement  being  a  private  gentleman, 
Mr.  Roger  O'More,  or  O'Moore,  a  member  of  the  ancient 
family  of  that  name,  chiefs  of  Leix.  With  him  there  soon 
became  associated  Lord  Maguire,  an  Irish  nobleman  who 
retained  a  small  fragment  of  the  ancient  patrimony  of  his 
family  in  Fermanagh ;  his  brother  Roger  Maguire,  Sir 
Felim  O'Neill  of  Kinnard,  Sir  Con  Magennis,  Colonel 
Hugh  Oge  Mac  Mahon,  Very  Rev.  Heber  Mac  Mahon, 
Vicar-General  of  Clogher,  and  a  number  of  others. 

About  May,  Nial  O'Neill  arrived  in  Ireland  from  the 
titular  Earl  of  Tyrone  (John,  son  of  Hugh  O'Neill),  in 
Spain,  to  inform  his  friends  that  he  had  obtained  from 
Cardinal  Richelieu  a  promise  of  arms,  ammunition,  and 
money  for  Ireland  when  required,  and  desiring  them  to 
hold  themselves  in  readiness.  The  confederates  sent  back 
the  messenger  with  information  as  to  their  proceedings, 
and  to  announce  that  they  would  be  prepared  to  rise  a 
few  days  before  or  after  AU-Hallowtide,  according  as 
opportunity  answered.    But  scarcely  was  the  messenger 


some  of  whose  companies  are  cast,  and  they  made  pensioners.  Of  these 
serving  under  the  Archduchess,  there  are  about  one  hundred  able  to  com- 
mand companies,  and  twenty  fit  to  be  colonels.  Many  of  them  are  de- 
scended of  gentlemen's  families  and  some  of  noblemen.  These  Irish  soldiers 
and  pensioners  doe  stay  their  resolutions  until  they  see  whether  England 
makes  peace  or  war  with  Spaine.  If  peace,  they  have  practised  already  with 
other  soveraine  princes,  from  whom  they  have  received  hopes  of  assistance; 
if  war  doe  ensue,  they  are  confident  of  greater  ayde.  They  have  been  long 
providing  of  arms  for  any  attempt  against  Ireland,  and  had  in  readiness 
five  or  six  thousand  arms  laid  up  in- Antwerp  for  that  purpose,  bought  out 
of  the  deduction  of  their  monthly  pay,  as  will  be  proved,  and  it  is  thought 
they  have  doubled  that  proportion  by  these  means.'  " 


358 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


dispatched  when  news  was  received  that  the  Earl  of  Ty- 
rone was  killed,  and  another  messenger  was  sent  with  all 
speed  into  the  Low  Countries  to  (his  cousin)  Colonel 
Owen  (Roe)  O'Neill,  who  was  the  next  entitled  to  be 
their  leader.  ''In  the  course  of  September  their  plans 
were  matured ;  and,  after  some  changes  as  to  the  day,  the 
23d  of  October  was  finally  fixed  upon  for  the  rising/' ^ 

The  plan  agreed  upon  by  the  confederates  included  four 
main  features.  I.  A  rising  after  the  harvest  was  gathered 
in,  and  a  campaign  during  the  winter  months.  II.  A  si- 
multaneous attack  on  one  and  the  same  day  or  night  on 
all  the  fortresses  within  reach  of  their  friends.  III.  To 
surprise  the  Castle  of  Dublin,  which  was  said  to  contain 
arms  for  12,000  men.  ''All  the  details  of  this  project 
were  carried  successfully  into  effect,  except  the  seizure  of 
Dublin  Castle  —  the  most  difficult,  as  it  would  have  been 
the  most  decisive  blow  to  strike."  ^  The  government, 
which  at  this  time  had  a  cloud  of  spies  on  the  Continent 
watching  the  exiles,  seems  to  have  been  in  utter  ignorance 
of  this  vast  conspiracy  at  home,  wrapping  nearly  the  en- 
tire of  three  provinces,  and  which  perfected  all  its  arrange- 
ments throughout  several  months  of  preparation,  to  the 
knowledge  of  thousands  of  the  population,  without  one 
traitorous  Irishman  being  found,  up  to  the  night  fixed  for 
the  simultaneous  movement,  to  disclose  the  fact  of  its 
existence. 

On  the  night  appointed  without  failure  or  miscarriage 
at  any  point,  save  one^  out  of  all  at  which  simultaneous- 
ness  of  action  was  designed,  the  confederate  rising  was 
accomplished.  In  one  iiiglit  the  people  had  swept  out  of 
sight,  if  not  from  existence,  almost  everj'  vestige  of  Eng- 
lish rule  throughout  three  provinces.  The  forts  of  Char- 
lemont  and  Mountjoy,  and  the  town  of  Dungannon,  were 


1  Haverty. 


2  M'Gee. 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


359 


seized  on  the  night  of  the  22d,  by  Phelini  O'Neill  or  his 
lieutenants.  On  the  next  day,  Sir  Connor  Magennis  took 
the  town  of  Newry ;  the  MvMahons  possessed  themselves 
of  Carrickmacross  and  Castleblayney ;  the  O'Hanlons, 
Tandragee ;  while  Philip  O'Reilly  and  Roger  Maguire 
raised  Cavan  and  Fermanagh.  A  proclamation  of  the 
northern  leaders  appeared  the  same  day,  dated  from  Duii- 
gannon,  setting  forth  their  ''true  intent  and  meaning"  to 
be,  '•'"not  hostility  to  his  majesty  the  king^  nor  to  any  of  his 
subjects,  neither  English  nor  Scotch ;  but  only  for  the  de- 
fence and  liberty  of  ourselves  and  the  Irish  natives  of  this 
kingdom."  "  A  more  elaborate  manifesto  appeared  shortly 
afterwards  from  the  pen  of  O'Moore,  in  which  the  oppres- 
sions of  the  Catholics  for  conscience'  sake  were  detailed, 
the  kings  intended  graces  acknowledged,  and  their  frus- 
tration by  the  malice  of  the  Puritan  party  exhibited  :  it 
also  endeavoured  to  show  that  a  common  danger  threat- 
ened the  Protestants  of  the  Episcopal  Church  with  Roman 
Catholics,  and  asserted  in  the  strongest  terms  the  devo- 
tion of  the  Catholics  to  the  crown.  In  the  same  politic 
and  tolerant  spirit,  Sir  Connor  Magennis  wrote  from 
Newry  on  the  25th  to  the  officers  commanding  at  Down. 
'  We  are,'  he  wrote,  '  for  our  lives  and  liberties.  We  de- 
sire no  blood  to  be  shed  ;  but  if  you  mean  to  shed  our  bloody 
be  sure  ive  shall  be  as  ready  as  you  for  that  purpose,^  This 
threat  of  retaliation,  so  customary  in  all  wars,  was  made 
on  the  third  day  of  the  rising,  and  refers  wholly  to  future 
contingencies;  the  monstrous  fictions  which  were  after- 
wards circulated  of  a  wholesale  massacre  committed  on  the 
23d,  were  not  as  yet  invented,  nor  does  any  public  docu- 
ment or  private  letter  written  in  Ireland  in  the  last  week 
of  October,  or  during  the  first  daj's  of  November,  so  much 
as  allude  to  those  tales  of  blood  and  horror  afterwards  so 
industriously  circulated  and  so  greedily  swallowed."  ^ 


1  M'Gee. 


360 


THE  STORY  OF  IBELAND, 


The  one  point  at  which  miscarriage  occurred  was,  un- 
fortunately for  the  conspirators,  the  chief  one  in  their 
scheme  —  Dublin;  and  here  the  escape  of  the  government 
was  narrow  and  close  indeed.  On  the  night  fixed  for  the 
rising,  23d  October,  one  of  the  Irish  leaders,  Colonel 
Hugh  Mac  Mahon,  confided  the  design  to  one  Owen  Con- 
nolly, whom  he  thought  to  be  worthy  of  trust,  but  who, 
however,  happened  to  be  a  follower  of  Sir  John  Clotwor- 
thy,  one  of  the  most  rabid  of  the  Puritanical  party.  Con- 
nolly, who,  by  the  way,  was  drunk  at  the  time,  instantly 
hurried  to  the  private  residence  of  one  of  the  lords  justices, 
and  excitedly  proclaimed  to  him  that  that  night  the  castle 
was  to  be  seized,  as  part  of  a  vast  simultaneous  movement 
all  over  the  country.  Sir  W.  Parsons,  the  lord  justice, 
judging  the  story  to  be  merely  the  raving  of  a  half- 
drunken  man,  was  on  the  point  of  turning  Connolly  out 
of  doors,  when,  fortunately  for  him,  he  thought  it  better 
to  test  the  matter.  He  hurriedly  consulted  his  colleague. 
Sir  John  Borlase ;  they  decided  to  double  the  guards, 
shut  the  city  gates,  and  search  the  houses  wherein,  ac- 
cording to  Connolly's  story,  the  leaders  of  the  conspiracy 
were  at  that  moment  awaiting  the  hour  of  action.  Colo- 
nel Mac  Mahon  was  seized  at  his  lodgings,  near  the  King's 
Inns;  Lord  Maguire  was  captured  next  morning  in  a  house 
in  Cooke  Street;  but  O'Moore,  Plunkett,  and  Bja^ne,  suc- 
ceeded in  making  good  their  escape  out  of  the  city.  Mac 
Mahon,  on  being  put  to  question  before  the  lords  justices 
in  the  Castle,  boldly  avowed  his  part  in  the  national  move- 
ment ;  nay,  proudly  gloried  in  it,  telling  his  questioners, 
that  let  them  do  what  they  might,  their  best  or  their  worst, 
with  him,  "the  rising  was  now  beyond  all  human  power 
to  arrest."  While  the  lords  justices  looked  astounded, 
haggard,  and  aghast,  Mac  Mahon,  his  face  radiant  with 
exultation,  his  form  appearing  to  dilate  with  proud  defi- 
ance of  the  bloody  fate  he  knew  to  be  inevitable  for  him- 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


361 


self,  told  them  to  bear  him  as  soon  as  they  pleased  to  the 
block,  but  that  already  Ireland  had  burst  her  chains ! 
Next  day,  they  found  to  their  dismay  that  this  was  no 
empty  vaunt.  Before  forty-eight  hours  the  whole  struc- 
ture of  British  "  colonization  "  in  the  North  was  a  wreck. 
The  "  plantation  "  system  vanished  "  like  the  baseless  fab- 
ric of  a  vision ; "  and  while  the  ship  was  bearing  away  to 
England  the  gallant  Mac  Mahon  and  his  hapless  colleague, 
Lord  Maguire  —  that  an  impotent  vengeance  might  glut 
itself  with  their  blood  upon  the  scaffold  —  from  all  the 
towers  and  steeples  in  the  north,  joj^  bells  were  ringing 
merry  peals,  and  bonfires  blazed,  proclaiming  that  the 
spoliators  had  been  swept  away,  and  that  the  rightful 
owners  enjoyed  their  own  again !  The  people,  with  the 
characteristic  exuberance  of  their  nature,  gave  them- 
selves up  to  the  most  demonstrative  joy  and  exultation. 
No  words  can  better  enable  us  to  realise  the  popular  feel- 
ing at  this  moment  than  Mr.  Gavan  Duffy's  celebrated 
poem,  "  The  Muster  of  the  North :  "  — 

"  Joy !  joy  I  the  day  is  come  at  last,  the  day  of  hope  and  pride, 
And,  see  !  our  crackling  bonfires  light  old  Bann's  rejoicing  tide  I 
And  gladsome  bell  and  bugle-horn,  from  Newry's  captured  tow'rs, 
Hark  !  how  they  tell  the  Saxon  swine,  this  land  is  ours  —  is  ours  ! 

"  Glory  to  God  !  my  eyes  have  seen  the  ransomed  fields  of  Down, 
My  ears  have  drunk  the  joyful  news,  *  Stout  Phelini  hath  his  own.* 
Oh  I  may  they  see  and  hear  no  more,  oh  !  may  they  rot  to  clay, 
When  they  forget  to  triumph  in  the  conquest  of  to-day. 

"  Now,  now,  w^e  '11  teach  the  shameless  Scot  to  purge  his  thievish  maw ; 
Now%  now,  the  courts  may  fall  to  pray,  for  Justice  is  the  Law ; 
Now  shall  the  undertaker  square  for  once  his  loose  accounts, 
We  '11  strike,  brave  boys,  a  fair  result  from  all  his  false  amounts. 

"  Come,  trample  down  their  robber  rule,  and  smite  its  venal  spawn. 
Their  foreign  laws,  their  foreign  church,  their  ermine  and  their  lawn. 
With  all  the  specious  fry  of  fraud  that  robbed  as  of  our  own. 
And  plant  our  ancient  laws  again  beneath  our  lineal  throne. 


362 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


Down  from  the  sacred  hills  whereon  a  saint  commun'd  wnth  God, 
Up  from  the  vale  where  BagnaPs  blood  manured  the  reeking  sod, 
Out  from  the  stately  woods  of  Truagh,  M'Kenna's  plundered  home, 
Like  IMalin's  waves,  as  fierce  and  fast,  our  faithful  clansmen  come. 

'^Then,  brethren,  on  !  —  O'Xeill's  dear  shade  would  frown  to  see  you 
pause  — 

Our  banished  Hugh,  our  martyred  Hugh,  is  watching  o'er  your 
cause  — 

His  generous  error  lost  the  land  —  he  deemed  the  Xorman  true. 
Oh  !  forward,  friends  !  it  must  not  lose  the  land  again  in  you." 


CHAPTER  LIV. 

HOW  THE  LORDS  JUSTICES  GOT  UP  THE  NEEDFUL  BLOODY 
FUKY  IX  EXGLAND  BY  A  ''DREADFUL  MASSACRE" 
STORY.  HOW  THE  CONFEDERATION  OF  KILKENNY 
CAME  ABOUT. 

HE  Puritanical  party,  which  ever  since  Went- 
worth's  execution  had  the  government  of  Ireland 
in  their  hands,  began  to  consider  that  this  des- 
perate condition  of  their  affairs  rendered  some 
extraordinary  resort  necessary,  if  the  island  was  not  to 
slip  totally  and  for  ever  from  their  grasp.  The  situation 
was  evidently  one  full  of  peculiar  difficulty  and  embarrass- 
ment for  them.  The  national  confederacy,  which  by  this 
time  had  most  of  the  kingdom  in  its  hands,  declared  ut- 
most loyalty  to  the  king,  and  in  truth,  as  time  subsequently 
showed,  meant  him  more  lionest  and  loyal  service  than 
those  who  now  surrounded  him  as  ministers  and  officials. 

Hence  it  was  more  than  likely  to  be  extremely  difficult 
to  arouse  against  the  Irish  movement  that  strong  and 
general  effusion  of  public  feeling  in  Enghmd  which  would 


THE  STOEY  OF  IRELAND. 


363 


result  in  vigorous  action  against  it.  For  obviously 
enough  (so  reasoned  the  Puritanical  executive  in  Dublin 
Castle)  that  section  of  the  English  nation  which  supports 
the  king  will  be  inclined  to  side  with  this  Irish  movement ; 
they  will  call  it  far  more  justifiable  and  far  more  loyal 
than  that  of  the  rebel  Scotch  covenanters ;  they  Avill 
counsel  negotiation  with  its  leaders,  perhaps  the  concession 
of  their  demands  ;  in  any  event  they  will  reprehend  and 
prevent  any  extreme  measures  against  them.  In  which 
case,  of  course,  the  result  must  be  fatal  to  the  pious  pro- 
ject of  robbing  the  native  Irish,  and  planting "  the 
country  with  "  colonies  "  of  saintly  plunderers. 

In  this  extremity  it  was  discerned  that  there  was  barely 
one  way  of  averting  all  these  dangers  and  disasters  —  just 
one  way  of  preventing  any  favourable  opinion  of  the 
Irish  movement  taking  root  in  England — one  sure  way 
for  arousing  against  it  such  a  cry  as  must  render  it  im- 
possible for  even  the  king  himself  to  resist  or  refrain  from 
joining  in  the  demand  for  its  suppression  at  all  hazards. 
This  happy  idea  was  to  start  the  story  of  an  "awful, 
bloody,  and  altogether  tremendous  massacre  of  Protes- 
tants." 

To  be  sure  they  knew  there  had  been  no  massacre  — 
quite  the  contrary ;  but  this  made  little  matter.  With 
proper  vehemence  of  assertion,  and  sufficient  construction 
of  circumstantial  stories  to  that  effect,  no  difficulty  was 
apprehended  on  this  score.  But  the  real  embarrassment 
lay  in  the  fact  that  it  was  rather  late  to  start  the  thing. 
Several  days  or  weeks  had  elapsed,  and  several  accounts 
of  the  rising  had  been  transmitted  without  any  mention  of 
such  a  proceeding  as  a  "wholesale  massacre,"  which  ordi- 
narily should  have  been  the  first  thing  proclaimed  with  all 
horror.  The  lords  justices  and  their  advisers,  who  were 
all  most  pious  men,  long  and  with  grave  trouble  of  mind 
considered  this  stumbling  block ;  for  it  was  truly  distress- 


864 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


ing  that  such  a  promising  project  should  be  thwarted. 
Eventually  they  decided  to  chance  the  story  anyway,  and 
trust  to  extra  zeal  in  the  use  of  horror  narratives,  to  get 
up  such  a  bloody  fury  in  England  as  would  render  close 
scrutiny  of  the  facts  out  of  the  question.^ 

So  —  albeit  long  after  date  —  suddenly  a  terrific  outcry 
arose  about  the  awful  massacre  "  in  Ireland ;  the  great 
wholesale  and  simultaneous  massacre  of  Protestants. 
Horrors  were  piled  on  horrors,  as  each  succeeding  mail 
brought  from  the  government  officials  in  Dublin  "  further 
particulars  "  of  the  dreadful  massacre  which  had,  they  de- 
clared, taken  place  all  over  Ulster  on  the  night  of  the 
rising.  Several  of  the  ministers  in  London  were  in 
the  secret  of  this  massacre  story  ;  but  there  is  no  doubt  it 
was  sincerely  credited  by  the  bulk  of  the  English  people 
at  the  time ;  and,  as  might  be  expected,  a  sort  of  frenzy 
seized  the  populace.  A  cry  arose  against  the  bloody  Irish 
Popish  rebels.    Everywhere  the  shout  was  to  "  stamp 


1  Several  of  our  recent  historians  have  gone  to  great  pains,  citing  origi- 
nal documents,  state  papers,  and  letters  of  Protestant  witnesses,  to  expose 
the  baseness  and  wickedness  of  this  massacre  story;  but  at  this  time  of  day- 
one  might  as  well  occupy  himself  in  gravely  demonstrating  the  villany  of 
Titus  Oates's  informations."  The  great  Popish  Massacre  story  has  had 
its  day,  but  it  is  now  dead  and  gone.  The  fact  that  there  were  excesses 
committed  by  the  insurgents  in  a  few  cases  —  instantly  denounced  and 
punished  as  violations  of  the  emphatic  orders  of  their  leaders  promulgated 
to  the  contrary  —  has  nothing  to  say  to  this  question  of  massacre.  Let  it 
always  be  said  that  even  one  case  of  lawless  violence  or  life-taking  —  even 
one  excess  of  the  laws  of  honourable  warfare  —  is  a  thing  to  abominate  and 
deplore;  as  the  Irish  Confederate  leaders  denounced  and  deplored  the  cases 
reported  to  them  of  excesses  by  some  of  Sir  Phelim  O'Neill's  armed  bands. 
Not  only  did  the  Irish  leaders  vehemently  inculcate  moderation,  but  the 
Protestant  chroniclers  of  the  time  abundantly  testify  that  those  leaders  and 
the  Catholic  clergy  went  about  putting  those  instructions  into  practice. 
Leland,  the  Protestant  historian,  declares  that  the  Catholic  priests'*  la- 
boured zealously  to  moderate  the  excesses  of  war,"  and  frequently  pro- 
tected the  English  where  danger  threatened  them,  hy  concealing  them  in 
their  places  of  worship  and  even  under  their  altars!  The  Protestant  Bishop 
Burnet,  in  his  life  of  Dr.  Bedel,  who  was  titular  Protestant  Bishop  of  Dro- 
more  at  the  time,  tells  us  that  Dr,  Bedel,  with  the  tumultuous  sea  of  the 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


366 


them  out."  The  wisdom  and  sagacity  of  the  venerable 
lords  justices — the  preeminent  merits  of  their  device  — 
were  triumphantly  attested  ! 

For  a  time  there  was  a  danger  that  the  whole  scheme 
might  be  spoiled  —  shaken  in  public  credulity  —  hx  the 
injudicious  zeal  of  some  of  the  furnishers  of  ''further 
particulars,"  by  whom  the  thing  was  a  little  over-done. 
Some  thought  twenty  thousand  would  suffice  for  the  num- 
ber of  massacred  Protestants ;  others  would  go  for  a  hun- 
dred thousand ;  while  the  more  bold  and  energetic  still 
stood  out  for  putting  it  at  two  or  three  hundred  thousand, 
though  there  were  not  that  number  of  Protestants  in  all 
Ireland  at  the  time.  As  a  consequence,  there  were  some 
most  awkward  contradictions  and  inconsistencies ;  but  so 
great  was  the  fury  aroused  in  England,  that  happily  these 
little  dangers  passed  away  smoothly,  and  Kiug  Charles 
himself  joined  in  the  shout  against  the  horrid  Popish 
rebellion !  The  English  soldiers  in  Ireland  were  exhorted 
to  slay  and  spare  not ;  additional  regiments  were  quickly 

**  rising  "  foaming  around  him  on  all  sides  in  Cavan,  enjoyed,  both  himself 
and  all  who  sought  the  shelter  of  his  house,  "to  a  miracle  perfect  quiet," 
though  he  had  neither  guard  nor  defence,  save  the  respect  and  forbearance 
of  the  "  insurgents."  One  fact  alone,  recorded  by  the  Protestant  historians 
themselves,  affords  eloquent  testimony  on  this  point.  This  bishop  Bedel 
died  while  the  "  rising  "  was  in  full  rush  around  him.  He  was  very  ardent 
as  a  Protestant;  but  he  refused  to  join  in,  and,  indeed,  reprobated  the 
scandalous  robberies  and  persecutions  pursued  against  the  Catholic  Irish. 
The  natives  —  the  insurgents  —  the  Catholic  nobles  and  peasants  —  en 
ma^set  attended  his  funeral,  and  one  of  Sir  Phelim  O'NeiU's  regiments, 
with  reversed  arms,  followed  the  bier.  When  the  grave  was  closed  (sa3'S 
the  Protestant  historian  whom  I  am  quoting),  they  fired  a  farewell  volley 
over  it,  the  leaders  crying  out:  '''Beqidescat  in  pace,  nltinms  Anglonnn  ! 

Rest  in  peace,  last  of  the  English.")  For  the}^  had  often  said  that,  as  he 
was  the  best  man  of  the  English  religion,  he  ought  to  be  the  last  !  Such 
was  the  conduct  of  the  Irish  insurgents.  In  no  countiy,  unfortunately,  are 
popular  risings  unaccompanied  by  excesses;  never  in  any  country,  proba- 
bly, did  a  people  rising  against  diabolical  oppression,  sweep  away  their 
plunderers  with  so  few  excesses  as  did  the  Irish  in  1641.  But  all  this,  in 
any  event,  has  nought  to  say  to  such  a  proceeding  as  a  massacre.  That  was 
an  afterthought  of  the  lords  justices,  as  has  already  been  shown. 


366 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


sent  over  —  the  men  maddened  by  the  massacre  stories  — 
to  join  in  the  work  of  "  revenge."  And,  just  as  might  be 
expected,  then  indeed  massacre  in  earnest  appeared  upon 
the  scene.  The  Irish  had  in  the  very  first  hour  of  their 
movement  —  in  the  very  flush  of  victory  —  humanely  and 
generously  proclaimed  that  they  would  seek  righteous  ends 
by  righteous  means ;  that  they  would  fight  their  cause,  if 
fight  they  must,  by  fair  and  honourable  warfare.  They 
had,  with  exceptions  so  rare  as  truly  to  prove  the  rule," 
exhibited  marvellous  forbearance  and  magnanimity.  But 
now  the  English  Puritan  soldiery,  infuriated  to  the  fiercest 
pitch,  were  set  upon  them,  and  atrocities  that  sicken  the 
heart  to  contemplate  made  the  land  reek  from  shore  to 
shore.  The  Covenanters  of  Scotland  also,  who  had  just 
previously  secured  by  rebellion  all  they  demanded  for 
themselves,  were  filled  with  a  holy  desire  to  bear  a  part  in 
the  pious  work  of  stamping  out  the  Irish  Popish  rebellion. 
King  Charles,  who  was  at  the  time  in  Edinburgh  endeav- 
ouring to  conciliate  the  Scottish  parliament,  was  quite 
ready  to  gratify  them ;  and  accordingly  a  force  of  some 
two  thousand  Scots  were  dispatched  across  the  channel, 
landing  at  Antrim,  where  they  were  reinforced  by  a  re- 
cruitment from  the  remnant  of  the  "colonies"  planted  by 
James  the  First.  It  was  this  force  which  inaugurated 
what  may  be  called  ''massacres."  Before  their  arrival  the 
Puritan  commanders  in  the  south  had,  it  is  true,  left  no 
atrocity  untried ;  but  the  Scots  went  at  the  work  whole- 
sale. They  drove  all  the  native  population  of  one  vast 
district  —  (or  rather  all  the  aged  and  infirm,  the  women 
and  children ;  for  the  adult  males  were  away  serving  in 
the  confederate  armies)  —  into  a  promontory,  almost  an 
island,  on  the  coast,  called  Island  Magee.  Here,  when  the 
helpless  crowd  were  hemmed  in,  the  Scots  fell  upon  them 
sword  in  hand,  and  drove  them  over  the  cliffs  into  the  sea, 
or  butchered  them  to  the  last,  irrespective  of  age  or  sex. 


THE  STORY  OF  ICELAND, 


867 


From  this  day  forward  until  the  accession  of  Owen  Roe 
O'Neill  to  the  command,  the  northern  war  assumed  a  fero- 
city of  character  foreign  to  the  nature  of  O'Moore, 
O'Kelly,  and  Magennis/'  Horrors  and  barbarities  on  each 
side  made  humanity  shudder.  The  confederate  leaders 
had  proposed,  hoped  for,  and  on  their  parts  had  done 
everything  to  insure  the  conducting  of  the  war  according 
to  the  usages  of  fair  and  honourable  warfare.  The  gov- 
ernment, on  the  other  hand,  so  far  from  reciprocating  this 
spirit,  in  all  their  proclamations  breathed  savage  and 
merciless  fury  against  the  Irish  ;  and  every  exhortation  of 
their  commanders  (in  strange  contrast  with  the  humane 
and  honourable  manifestoes  of  the  confederates)  called 
upon  the  soldiery  to  glut  their  swords  and  spare  neither 
young  nor  old,  child  or  woman. 

The  conduct  of  the  government  armies  soon  widened 
the  area  of  revolt.  So  far  the  native  Irish  alone,  or  almost 
exclusively,  had  participated  in  it,  the  Anglo-Irish  Catho- 
lic Lords  and  Pale  gentry  holding  aloof.  But  these  latter 
could  not  fail  to  see  that  the  Puritan  faction,  which  now 
constituted  the  local  government,  were  resolved  not  to 
spare  Catholics  whether  of  Celtic  or  Anglo-Irish  race,  and 
were  moreover  bent  on  strengthening  their  own  hands  to 
league  with  the  English  parliamentarians  against  the  king. 
Loyalty  to  the  king,  and  considerations  for  their  own 
safety,  alike  counselled  them  to  take  some  decisive  step. 
Everything  rendered  hesitation  more  perilous.  Although 
they  had  in  no  way  encouraged,  or,  so  far,  sympathised 
with,  the  northern  rising,  their  possessions  were  ravaged 
by  the  Puritan  armies.  Fingal,  Santry,  and  Swords  —  dis- 
tricts in  profound  peace  —  were  the  scenes  of  bloody 
excesses  on  the  part  of  the  government  soldier3\  The 
Anglo-Irish  Catholic  nobility  and  gentry  of  these  districts 
in  vain  remonstrated.  They  drew  up  a  memorial  to  the 
throne,  and  forwarded  it  by  one  of  their  number,  Sir  J ohn 


868 


THE  STOliY  OF  IRELAND. 


Read.  He  was  instantlj'  seized,  imprisoned,  and  put  to 
the  rack  in  Dublin  Castle ;  "  one  of  the  questions  which 
he  was  pressed  to  answer  being  whether  the  king  and 
queen  were  privy  to  the  Irish  rebellion."  In  fine  the 
English  or  Anglo-Irish  Catholic  families  of  the  Pale  for  the 
first  time  in  history  began  to  feel  that  with  the  native 
Irish,  between  whom  and  them  hitherto  so  wide  a  gulf 
had  yawned,  their  side  must  be  taken.  After  some  nego- 
tiation between  them  and  the  Irish  leaders,  "on  the  invi- 
tation of  Lord  Gormanstown  a  meeting  of  Catholic 
noblemen  and  gentry  was  held  on  the  Hill  of  Crofty,  in 
Meath.  Among  those  who  attended  were  the  Earl  of 
Fingal,  Lords  Gormanstown,  Slane,  Louth,  Dunsany,  Trim- 
leston,  and  Netterville ;  Sir  Patrick  Barnwell,  Sir  Christo- 
pher Bellew,  Patrick  Barnwell  of  Kilbrew,  Nicholas  Darcy 
of  Platten,  James  Bath,  Gerald  Aylmer,  Cusack  of  Gor- 
manstown, Malone  of  Lismullen,  Segrave  of  Kileglan,  etc. 
After  being  there  a  few  hours  a  party  of  armed  men  on 
horseback,  with  a  guard  of  musketeers,  were  seen  to  ap- 
proach. The  former  were  the  insurgent  leaders,  Roger 
O'More,  Philip  O'Reilh-,  Mac  Mahon,  Captains  Byrne  and 
Fox,  etc.  The  lords  and  gentry  rode  towards  them,  and 
Lord  Gormanstown  as  spokesman  demanded,  'for  what 
reason  they  came  armed  into  the  Pale?'  O'More  an- 
swered, 'that  the  ground  of  their  coming  thither  and  tak- 
ing up  arms,  was  for  the  freedom  and  liberty  of  their 
consciences,  the  maintenance  of  his  majesty's  prerogative, 
in  which  they  understood  he  was  abridged,  and  the  making 
the  subjects  of  this  kingdom  as  free  as  those  of  England.'  "  ^ 
"The  leaders  then  embraced  amid  the  acclamations  of 
their  followers,  and  the  general  conditions  of  their  union 
having  been  unanimously  agreed  upon,  a  warrant  was 
drawn  out  authorising  the  Sheriff  of  Meath  to  summon 


1  Haverty. 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


369 


the  gentry  of  the  county  to  a  final  meeting  at  the  Hill  of 
Tara  on  the  24th  December."  ^ 

From  this  meeting  sprang  the  Irish  Confederation  of 
1642,  formally  and  solemnly  inaugurated  three  months 
subsequently  at  Kilkenny. 


CHAPTER  LV. 

SOMETHING  ABOUT  THE  CONFLICTING  ELEMENTS  OF  THE 
CIVIL  WAR  IN  1642-9.  HOW  THE  CONFEDERATE 
CATHOLICS  MADE  GOOD  THEIR  POSITION,  AND  ESTAB- 
LISHED A  NATIONAL  GOVERNMENT  IN  IRELAND. 

EW  chapters  of  Irish  history  are  more  important, 
none  have  been  more  momentous  in  their  results, 
than  that  which  chronicles  the  career  of  the 
Confederation  of  1642.  But  it  is  of  all,  .the  most 
intricate  and  involved,  and  the  most  difficult  to  summarize 
with  fitting  brevity  and  clearness  for  young  readers.  In 
that  struggle  there  were  not  two  but  at  least  four  or  five 
distinct  parties,  with  distinct,  separate,  and  to  a  greater  or 
lesser  degree  conflicting,  interests  and  views ;  partially  and 
momentarily  combining,  shifting  positions,  and  changing 
alliances ;  so  that  the  conflict  as  it  proceeded  was,  in  its 
character  and  component  parts,  truly  "  chameleonic."  As 
for  the  unfortunate  king,  if  he  was  greatly  to  be  blamed, 
he  was  also  greatly  to  be  pitied.  He  was  not  a  man  of 
passion,  malice,  or  injustice.  He  was  mild,  kindly,  and 
justly  disposed;  but  weak,  vacillating,  and  self-willed; 
and,  under  the  pressure  of  necessity  and  danger,  his  weak- 


1  M'Gee. 


370 


THE  STOBY  OF  ItiJELAKD. 


ness  degenerated  into  miserable  duplicity  at  times.  In 
the  storm  gathering  against  Iran  in  England,  his  enemies 
found  great  advantage  in  accusing  him  of  "Popish  lean- 
ings," and  insinuating  that  he  was  secretly  authorising  and 
encouraging  the  Irish  Popish  rebels  —  the  same  who  had 
just  massacred  all  the  Protestants  that  were  and  were  not 
in  the  newly  planted  province  of  Ulster.  To  rid  himself 
of  this  suspicion,  Charles  went  into  the  extreme  of  anxiety 
to  crush  those  hated  Irish  Papists.  He  denounced  them 
in  proclamations,  and  applied  to  parliament  for  leave  to 
cross  over  and  head  an  army  against  them  himself.  The 
parliament  replied,  by  maliciously  insinuating  a  belief  that 
his  real  object  was  to  get  to  the  head  of  the  Irish  Popish 
rebellion,  which  (they  would  have  it)  he  only  hypocriti- 
cally affected  to  denounce. 

The  newly-settled  Anglo-Irish  Protestants  became  from 
the  outset  of  this  struggle  bitter  Puritans ;  the  old  fami- 
lies of  the  Pale  mostly  remaining  royalists.  The  former 
sided  with  the  parliamentarians  and  against  the  king, 
because  they  mistrusted  his  declarations  of  intolerance 
against  the  Catholics,  and  secretly  feared  he  would  allow 
them  to  live  and  hold  possession  of  lands  in  Ireland ;  in 
which  case  there  would  be  no  plunder,  no  "plantations." 
The  Covenanting  Scots —  the  classes  from  whom  in  James's 
reign  the  Ulster  colonists  had  largely  been  drawn,  had 
just  the  same  cause  of  quarrel  against  the  Irish,  whom 
the  English  parliamentarians  hated  with  a  fierceness  for 
which  there  could  be  no  parallel.  This  latter  party  com- 
bined religious  fanaticism  with  revolutionary  passion,  and 
to  one  and  the  other  the  Irish  were  intolerably  obnoxious; 
to  the  one,  because  they  were  Papists,  idolaters,  followers 
of  Antichrist,  whom  to  slay  was  work  good  and  holy ;  to 
the  other,  because  they  had  sided  with  the  "  tj^rant " 
Charles. 

The  Catholic  prelates  and  clergy  could  not  be  expected 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


371 


to  look  on  idly  ^Yhile  a  fierce  struggle  in  defence  of  the 
Catholic  religion,  and  in  sustainment  of  the  sovereign 
against  rebellious  foes,  was  raging  in  the  land.  In  such 
a  war  they  could  not  be  neutral.  A  provincial  synod  was 
held  at  Kells,  22d  March,  1642,  whereat,  after  full  exam- 
ination and  deliberation,  the  cause  of  the  confederates  — 
"  God  and  the  King,"  freedom  of  worship  and  loyalty  to 
the  sovereign  —  was  declared  just  and  holy.  The  assem- 
bled prelates  issued  an  address  vehemently  denouncing 
excesses  or  severities  of  any  kind,  and  finally  took  steps 
to  convoke  a  national  synod  at  Kilkenny  on  the  10th  of 
May  following. 

On  that  day  accordingly  (10th  of  May,  1643),  the  na- 
tional synod  met  in  the  city  of  St.  Canice.  "  The  occasion 
was  most  solemn,  and  the  proceedings  were  characterised 
by  calm  dignity  and  an  enlightened  tone.  An  oath  of 
association,  which  all  Catholics  throughout  the  land  were 
enjoined  to  take,  was  framed ;  and  those  who  were  bound 
together  by  this  solemn  tie  were  called  the  '  Confederate 
Catholics  of  Ireland.'  A  manifesto  explanatory  of  their 
motives,  and  containing  rules  to  guide  the  confederation, 
and  an  admirable  plan  of  provisional  government,  was 
issued.  It  was  ordained  that  a  general  assembly,  com- 
prising all  the  lords  spiritual  and  temporal,  and  the  gentry 
of  their  party,  should  be  held ;  and  that  the  assembly 
should  select  members  from  its  body,  to  represent  the 
different  provinces  and  principal  cities,  and  to  be  called 
the  Supreme  Council,  which  should  sit  from  day  to  day, 
dispense  justice,  appoint  to  offices,  and  carry  on  as  it  were 
the  executive  government  of  the  country.  Severe  penal- 
ties were  pronounced  against  all  who  made  the  war  an 
excuse  for  the  commission  of  crime ;  and  after  three  days' 
sittings  this  important  conference  brought  its  labours  to 
a  close."  ^ 


1  Hftverty. 


372 


THE  STORY  OF  IBELAND. 


The  national  synod  did  not  break  up  till  about  the  end 
of  May,  and  long  before  that  period  the  proclamations 
issued  by  the  prelates  and  lay-lords,  calling  on  the  people 
to  take  the  oath  of  association,  had  the  happiest  results. 
Agents  from  the  synod  crossed  over  into  France,  Spain, 
and  Italy,  to  solicit  support  and  sympathy  from  the  Cath- 
olic princes.  Father  Luke  Wadding  was  indefatigably 
employed  collecting  moneys  and  inciting  the  Irish  officers 
serving  in  the  continental  armies  to  return  and  give  their 
services  to  their  own  land.  Lord  Mountgarret  was  ap- 
pointed president  of  the  council,  and  the  October  following 
was  fixed  for  a  general  assembly  of  the  whole  kingdom."  ^ 

On  the  23d  October  following  the  general  assembly 
thus  convoked,  assembled  in  Kilkenny,  "eleven  bishops 
and  fourteen  lay-lords  represented  the  Irish  peerage  ;  two 
hundred  and  twenty-six  commoners,  the  large  majority  of 
the  constituencies.  The  celebrated  lawyer  Patrick  Darcy, 
a  member  of  the  Commons  House,  was  chosen  as  chancellor, 
and  everj^thing  was  conducted  with  the  gravity  and  delib- 
eration befitting  so  venerable  an  assembly  and  so  great 
an  occasion."  A  Supreme  Council  of  six  members  for 
each  province  was  elected.  The  archbishops  of  Armagh, 
Dublin,  and  Tuam,  the  bishops  of  Down  and  of  Clonfert, 
Lord  Gormanstown,  Lord  Mountgarret,  Lord  Roche,  and 
Lord  Mayo,  with  fifteen  of  the  most  eminent  commoners, 
composed  this  council. 

Such  was  the  national  government  and  legislature  under 
which  Ireland  fought  a  formidable  struggle  for  three 
years.  It  was  loj^ally  obeyed  and  served  throughout  the 
land ;  in  fact  it  was  the  only  sovereign  ruling  power  rec- 
ognized at  all  outside  of  two  or  three  walled  cities  for 
the  greater  part  of  that  time.  It  undertook  all  the  func- 
tions properly  appertaining  to  its  high  office ;  coined 


1  Rev.  C.  p.  Meehan's  Confederation  of  Kilkenny/. 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


373 


money  at  a  national  mint;  appointed  judges  who  went 
circuit  and  held  assizes ;  sent  ambassadors  or  agents 
abroad,  and  commissioned  officers  to  the  natioiml  armies 
—  amongst  the  latter  being  Owen  Roe  O'Neill,  who  had 
landed  at  Doe  Castle  in  Donegal  in  July  of  that  year, 
and  now  formally  assumed  command  of  the  army  of 
Ulster. 

While  that  governing  body  held  together,  unrent  by 
treason  or  division,  the  Irish  nation  was  able  to  hold  its 
crowding  foes  at  bay,  and  was  in  fact  practically  free. 


CHAPTER  LVI. 

HOW  KING  CHARLES  OPENED  NEGOTIATIONS  WITH  THE 
CONFEDERATE  COUNCIL.  HOW  THE  ANGLO-IRISH  PARTY 
WOULD  ''HAVE  PEACE  AT  ANY  PRICE,"  AND  THE 
NATIVE  IRISH "  PARTY  STOOD  OUT  FOR  PEACE  WITH 
HONOUR.  HOW  POPE  INNOCENT  THE  TENTH  SENT  AN 
ENVOY  —  NOT  EMPTY-HANDED  "  —  TO  AID  THE  IRISH 
CAUSE. 

"  ^SlS^I^HE  very  power  of  the  confederates,"  says  one 
jSJ^  of  our  historians,    now  became  the  root  of  their 
i^p         misfortunes.    It  led  the  king  to  deshe  to  come  to 
terms  with  them^  not  from  any  intention  to  do 
them  justice,  but  with  the  hope  of  deriving  assistance 
from  them  in  his  difiSculties ;  and  it  exposed  them  to  all 
those  assaults  of  diplomatic  craft,  and  that  policy  of 
fomenting  internal  division,  which  ultimately  proved  their 
ruin." 

The  mere  idea  of  the  king  desiring  to  treat  with  them, 
unsettled  the  whole  body  of  the  Anglo-Irish  lords  and 


374 


THE  8T0BY  OF  IRELAND. 


nobles.  They  would  have  peace  with  the  king  on  almost 
any  terms  —  they  would  trust  everything  to  him.  The 
old  Irish,  the  native  or  national  party,  on  the  other  hand, 
were  for  holding  firmly  by  the  power  that  had  caused  the 
king  to  value  and  respect  them  ;  yielding  in  nowise  unless 
the  demands  specifically  laid  down  in  the  articles  of  con- 
federation were  efficiently  secured.  On  this  fatal  issue 
the  Supreme  Council  and  the  Confederation  were  surely 
split  from  the  first  hour.  Two  parties  were  on  the  instant 
created  —  two  bitter  factions  they  became  —  the  "peace 
party  "  or  Ormondists  ;  and  the  "national  party,"  sub- 
sequently designated  the  "  nuncionist,"  from  the  circum- 
stance of  the  Papal  nuncio  being  its  firmest  supporter,  if 
not  its  leader. 

The  first  negotiations  were  conducted  on  the  royal  side 
by  a  plenipotentiary  whom  the  Anglo-Irish  lords  not  only 
regarded  as  a  friend  of  the  king,  but  knew  to  be  as  much 
opposed  as  they  were  themselves  to  the  rebel  Puritans  — 
the  Marquis  of  Ormond,  a  maii  of  profound  ability,  of 
winning  manners,  and  deeply  skilled  in  diplomacy.  To  in- 
duce the  confederates  to  lay  down  their  arms,  to  abandon 
their  vantage  ground  in  Ireland,  and  send  their  troops 
across  to  Scotland  or  England  to  fight  for  Charles,  was  his 
great  aim.  In  return  he  would  offer  little  more  than 
"  trust  to  the  king,  when  he  shall  have  put  his  enemies 
down."  In  the  very  first  negotiation  the  compromise 
party  prevailed.  On  the  15th  September,  1643,  a  cessa- 
tion of  arms  was  signed  in  Ormond's  tent  at  Sigginstown, 
near  Naas.  In  this  the  confederates  were  completely  out- 
witted. Thei/  kept  the  truce  ;  but  they  found  Ormond 
either  unable  or  unwilling  to  compel  to  obedience  of  its 
provisions  the  Puritan  government  generals,  foremost 
amongst  whom  in  savagery  were  Monroe  in  the  north, 
leader  of  the  covenanting  Scotch  army,  and  Morrough 
O'Brien,  Lord  Inchiquin  (son-in-law.  of  Sentleger,  lord 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


375 


president  of  Muuster),  in  the  south.  Meanwhile  Ormond, 
as  we  are  told,  amused  the  confederates  with  negotia- 
tions for  a  permayient  peace  and  settlement  from  spring 
till  midsummer ;  "  time  working  all  against  the  confeder- 
ates, inasmuch  as  internal  division  was  widening  every 
dav.  It  turned  out  that  the  marquis,  whose  prejudices 
against  the  Catholics  were  stronger  than  his  loyalty  to 
the  waning  fortunes  of  the  king,  was  deceiving  both 
parties  ;  for  while  he  was  skilfully  procrastinating  and 
baffling  any  decisive  action,  Charles  was  really  importun- 
ing him  to  hasten  the  peace,  and  come  to  terms  with  the 
Irish,  whose  aid  was  every  day  becoming  more  necessary. 
At  this  stage,  the  king  privately  sent  over  Lord  Glamor- 
gan to  conclude  a  secret  treaty  with  the  confederates. 
Lords  Mountgarret  and  Muskerry  met  the  royal  commis- 
sioner on  the  part  of  the  confederation,  and  the  terms  of 
a  treaty  fully  acceptable  were  duly  agreed  upon.  I.  The 
Catholics  of  Ireland  were  to  enjoy  the  free  and  public 
exercise  of  their  religion.  II.  They  were  to  hold  and 
have  secured  for  their  use  all  the  Catholic  churches  not 
then  in  actual  possession  of  the  Protestants.  III.  They 
were  to  be  exempt  from  the  jurisdiction  of  the  Protestant 
clergy.  IV.  The  confederates  (as  the  price  of  being 
allowed  to  hold  their  own  churches  and  to  worship  in 
their  own  faith)  were  to  send  10,000  men  fully  armed  to 
the  relief  of  Chester  and  the  general  succour  of  the  king. 
Lastly,  on  the  king's  part  it  was  stipulated  that  this  treaty 
should  be  kept  secret  while  his  troubles  with  English  mal- 
contents were  pending.  The  pretence  was  that  Ormond 
(by  this  time  lord  lieutenant)  knew  nothing  of  this  secret 
negotiation  ;  but  he  and  Glamorgan  and  the  king  under- 
stood each  other  well.  On  his  way  to  Kilkenny  the  royal 
agent  called  upon  and  had  a  long  sitting  with  Ormond ; 
and  from  Kilkenny,  Glamorgan  and  the  confederate  pleni- 
potentiaries went  to  Dublin,  where,  during  several  private 


376 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


interviews,  the  lord  lieutenant  argued  over  all  the  points 
of  the  treaty  with  them.  He  evidently  thought  the 
10,000  men  might  be  had  of  the  confederates  for  less  con- 
^  cessions.  Meanwhile  Charles's  fortunes  were  in  the  bal- 
ance. Ormond  was  well-disposed  to  serve  the  king,  but 
not  at  the  risk  of  danger  to  himself.  After  having  fully 
reasoned  over  all  the  points  of  the  treaty  for  several  days 
with  Glamorgan  and  the  confederate  lords,  suddenly,  one 
afternoon,  Ormond  arrested  Glamorgan  with  every  show 
of  excitement  and  panic,  and  flung  him  into  prison  on  a 
charge  of  high  treason,  in  having  improperly  treated  in 
the  king's  name  with  the  confederates !  A  tremendous 
sensation  was  created  in  Dublin  by  the  event ;  Ormond 
feigning  that  only  by  accident  that  day  had  Glamorgan's 
conduct  been  discovered !  The  meaning  of  all  this  was, 
that  on  the  person  of  the  archbishop  of  Tuam,  who  had 
been  killed  a  few  days  previously,  bravely  fighting  against 
some  of  the  marauding  murderers  in  the  west,  there  was 
found  a  copy  of  the  treaty,  which  thus  became  public. 
Ormond  saw  that  as  the  affair  was  prematurely  disclosed, 
he  must  needs  affect  surprise  and  indignation  at,  and  dis- 
avow it.  Of  course  Glamorgan  was  softly  whispered  to 
lie  still,  if  he  would  save  the  king,  and  offer  no  contra- 
diction of  the  viceregal  falsehoods.  With  which  Glamor- 
gan duly  complied.  The  duped  confederates  were  to  bear 
all  the  odium  and  discomfiture  ! 

It  was  during  the  Glamorgan  negotiation  —  towards  its 
close  —  that  there  arrived  in  Kilkenny  a  man  whose  name 
is  indelibly  written  on  the  history  of  this  period,  and  is 
deeply  engraved  in  Irish  memory  —  John  Baptist  Rinuc- 
cini,  archbishop  of  Fermo,  in  the  marches  of  Ancona, 
chosen  by  the  new  pope.  Innocent  the  Tenth,  as  nuncio  to 
the  confederated  Catholics  of  Ireland.  As  the  pope,  from 
the  first  hour  when  the  Irish  were  driven  into  a  war  in 
defence  of  religion,  never  sent  an  envoy  empty-handed, 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


Rinuccini  brought  with  him,  purchased  by  moneys  contrib- 
uted by  the  Holy  Father,  besides  36,000  dollars  forwarded 
by  Father  Luke  Wadding,  "2,000  muskets,  2,000  car- 
touche belts,  4,000  swords,  2,000  pike-heads,  400  brace  of 
pistols,  20,000  pounds  of  powder,  with  match,  shot,  and 
other  stores."  He  landed  from  his  frigate,  the  Sari  Fietro^ 
at  Ardtully,  in  Kenmare  Bay.  He  then  proceeded  by 
way  of  Kilgarvan  to  Macroom,  whither  the  Supreme 
Council  sent  some  troops  of  cavalry  to  meet  him  as  a 
guard  of  honour.  Thence  by  way  of  Kilmallock  and 
Limerick,  as  rapidly  as  his  feeble  health  admitted  —  (he 
had  to  be  borne  on  a  litter  or  palanquin)  —  he  proceeded 
to  Kilkenny,  now  practically  the  capital  of  the  kingdom  — 
the  seat  of  the  national  goverment — where  there  awaited 
him  a  reception  such  as  a  monarch  might  envy.  It  was 
Catholic  Ireland's  salutation  to  the    royal  pope." 

That  memorable  scene  is  described  for  us  as  follows  by 
a  writer  to  whom  we  owe  the  only  succinct  account  which 
we  possess  in  the  English  language  of  the  great  events  of 
the  period  now  before  us:  "At  a  short  distance  from  the 
gate,  he  descended  from  the  litter,  and  having  put  on  the 
cope  and  pontifical  hat,  the  insignia  of  his  office,  he 
mounted  a  horse  caparisoned  for  the  occasion.  The  secu- 
lar and  regular  clergy  had  assembled  in  the  church  of  St. 
Patrick,  close  by  the  gate,  and  when  it  was  announced 
that  the  nuncio  was  in  readiness,  they  advanced  into  the 
city  in  processional  array,  preceded  by  the  standard-bearers 
of  their  respective  orders.  Under  the  old  arch,  called 
St.  Patrick's  gate,  he  was  met  by  the  vicar-general  of  the 
diocese  of  Ossory,  and  the  magistrates  of  the  city  and 
county,  who  joined  in  the  procession.  The  streets  were 
lined  by  regiments  of  infantry,  and  the  bells  of  the  Black 
Abbey  and  the  church  of  St.  Francis  pealed  a  gladsome 
chime.  The  procession  then  moved  on  till  it  ascended  the 
gentle  eminence  on  which  the  splendid  old  fane,  sacred. 


378 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


to  St.  Canice,  is  erected.  At  the  grand  entrance  he  was 
received  by  the  venerable  bishop  of  Ossorj^  whose  feeble- 
ness prevented  his  walking  in  procession.  After  mutual 
salutations,  the  bishop  handed  him  the  aspersorium  and 
incense,  and  then  both  entered  the  cathedral,  which,  even 
in  the  palmiest  days  of  Catholicity,  had  never  held  within 
its  precincts  a  more  solemn  or  gorgeous  assemblage.  The 
nuncio  ascended  the  steps  of  the  grand  altar,  intonated  the 
Te  Deum^  which  was  caught  up  by  a  thousand  voices,  till 
crypt  and  chancel  resounded  with  the  psalmody,  and  when 
it  ceased,  he  pronounced  a  blessing  on  the  immense  multi- 
tude which  crowded  the  aisles  and  nave.  .  .  .  These  cere- 
monies concluded,  he  retired  for  a  while  to  the  residence 
prepared  for  him  in  the  city,  and  shortly  afterwards  was 
waited  on  by  General  Preston  and  Lord  Muskerry.  He 
then  proceeded  on  foot  to  visit  Lord  Mountgarret,  the 
president  of  the  assembly.  The  reception  took  place  in 
the  castle.  At  the  foot  of  the  grand  staircase  he  was  met 
by  Thomas  Fleming,  archbishop  of  Dublin,  and  Walsh, 
archbishop  of  Cashel.  At  the  end  of  the  great  gallery, 
Lord  Mountgarret  was  seated,  waiting  his  arrival,  and 
when  the  nuncio  approached,  he  got  up  from  his  chair, 
without  moving  a  single  inch  in  advance.  The  seat 
designed  for  Rinuccini  was  of  damask  and  gold,  with  a 
little  more  ornament  than  that  occupied  b}^  the  president. 
.  .  .  The  nuncio  immediately  addressed  the  president  in 
Latin,  and  declared  that  the  object  of  his  mission  was  to 
sustain  the  king,  then  so  perilously  circumstanced;  but, 
above  all,  to  rescue  from  pains  and  penalties  the  people 
of  Ireland,  and  to  assist  them  in  securing  the  free  and 
public  exercise  of  the  Catholic  religion,  and  the  restoration 
of  the  churches  and  church  property  of  which  fraud  and 
violence  had  so  long  deprived  their  rightful  inheritors."  ^ 


1  Rev,  C.  P.  JSIfi^han's  Con/ederation  of  Kilkenny. 


TEE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


379 


From  the  very  first  the  nuncio  discerned  the  pernicious 
workings  of  the  "  compromise "  idea  in  paralysing  the 
power  of  the  confederacy ;  and  perceiving  all  its  bitter 
mischief,  he  seems  to  have  had  little  patience  with  it.  He 
saw  that  the  old  English  of  the  Pale  were  more  than 
anxious  for  a  compromise,  and  to  this  end  would  allow 
the  astute  Ormond  to  fool  them  to  the  last,  to  the  utter 
ruin  of  the  confederate  cause.  They  were,  however,  the 
majority,  and  eventually,  on  the  28th  of  March,  1646, 
concluded  with  Ormond  a  treaty  of  peace  which  was  a 
modification  of  Glamorgan's  original  propositions. 

On  the  character  and  merits  of  this  treaty  turns  one  of 
the  most  injurious  and  mournful  controversies  that  ever 
agitated  Ireland.  "  A  base  peace  "  the  populace  called  it 
when  made  public  ;  but  it  might  have  been  a  wise  one  for 
all  that.  In  the  denunciations  put  forward  against  it  by 
all  who  followed  the  nuncio's  views,  full  justice  has  not 
been  done  this  memorable  pact.  It  contained  one  patent 
and  fatal  defect  —  it  failed  to  make  such  express  and  ade- 
quate stipulations  for  the  security  of  the  Catholic  religion 
as  the  oath  of  Confederation  demanded.  Failing  this,  it 
was  substantially  a  good  treaty  under  all  the  circum- 
stances. It  secured  (as  far  as  a  treaty  with  a  double-deal- 
ing and  now  virtually  discrowned  king  might  be  held  to 
secure  anything)  all,  or  nearly  all,  that  the  Irish  Catholics 
expected  then,  or  have  since  demanded.  There  can  be  no 
doubt  that  the  majority  of  the  Supreme  Council  honestly 
judged  it  the  best  peace  attainable,  nay  wondrously  advan- 
tageous, all  things  considered  ;  and  judging  so,  it  is  not 
to  be  marvelled  at  that  they  bitterly  complained  of  and 
inveighed  against  the  nuncio  and  the  party  following  him, 
as  mad  and  culpable  ''extremists,"  who  would  lose  all  by 
unreasonably  grasping  at  too  much.  But  the  nuncio  and 
the  "  native  "  party  argued,  that  if  the  confederates  were 
but  true  to  themselves,  they  would  not  need  to  be  false  to 


380 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


their  oaths  —  that  they  had  it  in  their  power  by  vigorous 
and  patriotic  effort  to  win  equality  and  freedom,  not 
merely  tolerance.  Above  all,  Rinuccini  pointed  out  that 
dealing  with  men  like  Charles  the  king  and  Ormond  the 
viceroy,  circumstanced  as  the  royalist  cause  then  was,  the 
confederates  were  utterly  without  security.  They  were 
selling  their  whole  power  and  position  for  the  "  promise  to 
pay  "  of  a  bankrupt. 


CHAPTER  LVIL 

HOW  THE  NUNCIO  FEEED  AND  ARMED  THE  HAND  OF 
OWEN  ROE,  AND  BADE  HBI  STRIKE  AT  LEAST  ONE 
WORTHY  BLOW  FOR  GOD  AND  IRELAND.  HOW  GLO- 
RIOUSLY OWEN  STRUCK  THAT  BLOW  AT  BENBURB. 

T  was  even  so.  Two  months  afterwards.  May, 
1646,  Charles,  all  powerless,  fled  from  the  dangers 
environing  him  in  England,  and  took  refuge  with 
the  Scottish  parliament.  Meanwhile  the  Scottish 
covenanting  marauders  in  Ulster  had  been  wasting  the 
land  unchecked  since  the  fatal  "  truce  "  and  "  peace  nego- 
tiations "  had  tied  up  the  hands  of  the  confederates.  The 
nuncio  had  early  discerned  the  supreme  abilities  of  Owen 
Roe  O'j^eill  (the  favourite  general  of  the  national  party, 
or  "  old  Irish  faction  "  in  the  council),  and  now  he  re- 
solved to  strike  a  blow  which  might  show  the  country 
what  was  possible  to  brave  men  resolved  to  conquer  or 
die.  He  sent  northward  to  O'Neill  the  greater  part  of  the 
supplies  which  he  had  brought  with  him  from  abroad,  and 
told  the  Ulster  commander  that  on  him  it  now  lay  to  open 
the  eyes  alike  of  Puritan  rebels,  English  loyalists,  and 
half-hearted  confederates. 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


381 


O'Neill  was  not  slow  to  respond  to  this  summons.  For 
three  long  years,  like  a  chained  eagle,  he  had  pined  in 
weary  idleness,  ignoble  "truces"  fettering  him.  At  last 
he  was  free ;  and  now  he  resolved  to  show  weak  friend 
and  arrogant  foe  hov\^  he  who  had  defended  Arras,  could 
strike  for  God  and  liberty  at  home. 

With  the  first  days  of  June  he  was  on  the  march  from 
his  late  "  truce  "  station  on  the  borders  of  Leinster,  at  the 
head  of  five  thousand  foot  and  four  hundred  horse,  to 
attack  Monroe.  ''The  Scottish  general  received  timely 
notice  of  this  movement,  and  setting  out  with  six  thou- 
sand infantry  and  eight  hundred  horse,  encamped  about 
ten  miles  from  Armagh.  His  army  was  thus  considerably 
superior  to  that  of  O'Neill  in  point  of  numbers,  as  it  must 
also  have  been  in  equipments;  yet  he  sent  word  to  his 
brother.  Colonel  George  Monroe,  to  hasten  from  Coleraine 
to  reinforce  him  with  his  cavalry.  He  appointed  Glass- 
lough,  in  the  south  of  Monaghan,  as  their  rendezvous  ; 
but  the  march  of  the  Irish  was  quicker  than  he  expected, 
and  he  learned  on  the  4th  of  June  that  O'Neill  had  not 
only  reached  that  point,  but  had  crossed  the  Blackwater 
into  Tyrone,  and  encamped  at  Benburb.  O'Neill  drew 
up  his  army  between  two  small  hills,  protected  in  the  rear 
by  a  wood,  with  the  river  Blackwater  on  his  right  and  a 
bog  on  his  left,  and  occupied  some  brushw^ood  in  front 
with  musketeers,  so  that  his  position  was  admirabl}^  se- 
lected. He  was  well  informed  of  Monroe's  plans,  and 
dispatched  two  regiments  to  prevent  the  junction  of  Col- 
onel George  Monroe's  forces  with  those  of  his  brother. 
Finding  that  the  Irish  were  in  possession  of  the  ford  at 
Benburb,  Monroe  crossed  the  river  at  Kinard,  a  consider- 
able distance  in  O'Neill's  rear,  and  then  by  a  circuitous 
march  approached  him  in  front  from  the  east  and  south. 
The  manner  in  which  the  5th  of  June  was  passed  in  the 
Irish  camp  was  singularly  solemn.   '  The  whole  army,'  says 


882 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


Rinuccini,  'having  confessed,  and  the  general,  with  the 
other  officers,  having  received  the  holy  communion  with 
the  greatest  piety,  made  a  profession  of  faith,  and  the 
chaplain  deputed  hy  the  nuncio  for  the  spiritual  care  of 
the  army,  after  a  brief  exhortation,  gave  them  his  blessing. 
On  the  other  hand  the  Scots  were  inflamed  with  fierce  ani- 
mosity against  their  foe,  and  an  ardent  desire  for  battle.'  "  ^ 
"As  they  advanced,'' saj^s  another  writer,  "they  were 
met  by  Colonel  Richard  O'Ferral,  who  occupied  a  narrow 
defile  through  which  it  was  necessary  for  the  Scotch  troops 
to  pass  in  order  to  face  the  Irish.  The  fire  of  Monroe's 
guns,  however,  compelled  O'Neill's  officer  to  retire."  Lieu- 
tenant-Colonel Cunningham  having  thus  cleared  the  pass 
for  the  Scotch  horse,  who  were  commanded  by  the  Lord 
Viscount  of  Ardes,  in  the  absence  of  Colonel  Monroe, 
"  the  whole  army  advanced  to  dislodge  Owen  Roe ;  but  a 
shower  of  bullets  from  the  '  scrogs  and  bushes,'  which 
covered  O'Neill's  infantry,  checked  him  ;  and  then  the 
Scotch  cannon  opened  its  fire  with  little  effect ;  as,  owing 
to  the  admirable  position  of  the  Catholic  troops,  only  one 
man  was  struck  by  the  shot.  In  vain  did  Monroe's  cavalry 
charge ;  with  the  river  on  their  right  and  '  a  marish  bog ' 
on  the  left,  it  was  hopeless  to  think  of  stirring  the  con- 
federates. For  four  hours  did  the  Fabius  of  his  country 
amuse  the  enemy  with  skirmishing.  During  all  that  time 
the  wind  rolling  the  smoke  of  Monroe's  musketry  and 
cannon  in  the  face  of  the  Irish  ranks,  concealed  the 
adverse  ranks  from  their  sight,  and  the  sun  had  shone  all 
day  in  their  eyes,  blinding  them  w^ith  its  dazzling  glare ; 
but  that  sun  was  now  descending,  and  producing  the  same 
effect  on  the  Scotch,  when  Monroe  perceived  the  entire  of 
the  Irish  army  making  ready  for  a  general  assault  with 
horse  and  foot. 


1  Hav«rty. 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


383 


"  It  was  the  decisive  moment.  The  Irish  general,  throw- 
ing himself  into  the  midst  of  his  men,  and  pointing  out 
to  them  that  retreat  must  be  fatal  to  the  enemy,  ordered 
them  to  pursue  vigorously,  assuring  them  of  victory.  '  I 
myself,'  said  he,  '  with  the  aid  of  heaven,  will  lead  the 
way :  let  those  who  fail  to  follow  me  remember  that  they 
abandon  their  general.'  This  address  was  received  with 
one  unanimous  shout  by  the  army.  The  colonels  threw 
themselves  from  their  horses,  to  cut  themselves  off  from 
every  chance  of  retreat,  and  ^charged  with  incredible 
impetuosity.' 

"  Monroe  had  given  orders  to  a  squadron  of  horse  to 
break  through  the  columns  of ,  the  Irish  foot  as  they  ad- 
vanced ;  but  that  squadron  became  panic-stricken,  and 
retreated  disorderly  through  their  own  foot,  pursued  by 
O'Neill's  cavalry.  Nevertheless,  Monroe's  infantry  stood 
firm,  and  received  the  Irish,  body  to  body,  with  push  of 
pike,  till  at  last  the  cavalry  reserve,  being  routed  in  a 
second  charge,  fell  pell  mell  amongst  his  infantry,  which, 
being  now  broken  and  disordered,  had  no  way  to  retreat 
but  over  the  river  which  lay  in  their  front." 

"  The  Scots  now  fled  to  the  river,"  says  another  histo- 
rian; ''but  O'Neill  held  possession  of  the  ford,  and  the 
flying  masses  were  driven  into  the  deep  water,  where  such 
numbers  perished  that  tradition  says,  one  might  have 
crossed  over  dry-shod  on  the  bodies.  Monroe  himself  fled 
so  precipitately  that  his  hat,  sword,  and  cloak,  were  among 
the  spoils,  and  he  halted  not  till  he  reached  Lisburn.  Lord 
Montgomery  was  taken  prisoner,  with  twenty-one  officers 
and  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  soldiers;  and  over  three 
thousand  of  the  Scots  were  left  on  the  field  besides  those 
killed  in  the  pursuit,  which  was  resumed  next  morning. 
All  the  Scotch  artillery,  tents,  and  provisions,  with  a  vast 
quantity  of  arms  and  ammunition,  and  thirty-two  colours, 


384 


THE  SrOBY  OF  Hi  EL  AND. 


fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Irish,  who,  on  their  side,  had 
only  seventy  men  killed  and  two  hundred  wounded."  ^ 

Father  Hartigan,  one  of  the  army  chaplains,  was  sent 
to  bear  the  glad  news  of  this  victory  to  the  nuncio  at 
Limerick,  taking  with  him  the  trophies  captured  from  the 
enemy.  He  arrived  on  Saturday,  13th  June,  and  his  tid- 
ings flung  the  queen  city  of  the  Shannon  into  ecstacies 
of  jubilation.  "  On  the  following  day  (Sunday)  at  four 
o'clock,  P.M.,  all  the  troops  in  garrison  at  Limerick  as- 
sembled before  the  church  of  St.  Francis,  where  the 
nuncio  had  deposited  thirty-two  standards  taken  by  the 
Irish  general  from  the  Scolch.  These  trophies  were  then 
borne  in  solemn  procession  by  the  chiefs  of  the  nobility, 
followed  by  the  nuncio,  the  archbishop  of  Cashel,  and  the 
bishops  of  Limerick,  Clonfert,  and  Ardfert.  After  these 
came  the  Supreme  Council,  the  mayor  and  the  magistrates, 
with  the  entire  population  of  the  city.  The  procession 
moved  on  till  it  reached  St.  Mary's  cathedral,  where  the 
Te  Demn  was  chanted,  and  on  the  next  day  a  mass  of 
thanksgiving  was  offered  to  the  Lord,  '  who  fought  among 
the  valiant  ones,  and  overthrew  the  nations  that  were 
assembled  against  them  to  destroy  the  sanctuary.' " 

Mr.  Aubrey  de  Vere,  who  is  never  truer  poet,  never 
more  nobly  inspired,  than  when  the  victory  of  an  O'Neill 
is  to  be  sung,  gives  us  the  following  splendid  chant  of 
Benburb :  — 

"At  midnight  I  gazed  on  the  moonless  skies; 
There  glisten'd,  'mid  other  star  blazonries, 
A  sword  all  stars ;  then  heaven,  I  knew, 
Hath  holy  work  for  a  sword  to  do. 
Be  true,  ye  clansmen  of  Nial !    Be  true ! 

"  At  morning  T  look'd  as  the  sun  uprose  ;  ' 

On  the  fair  hills  of  Antrim,  late  white  with  snows'; 


^  Rev.  C.  P.  Meehan's  Confederation  of  Kilkenny. 


THi:  sTonr  of  ibelanb. 


385 


Was  it  morning  only  that  dyed  them  red  ? 
Martyred  hosts  methought  had  bled 
On  their  sanguine  ridges  for  years  not  few  ! 
Ye  clansmen  of  Conn,  this  day  be  true  ! 

"  There  is  felt  once  more  on  the  earth 
The  step  of  a  kingly  man  : 
Like  a  dead  man  hidden  he  lay  from  his  birth 
Exiled  from  his  country  and  clan. 

"  This  day  his  standard  he  flingeth  forth ; 
He  tramples  the  bond  and  ban : 
Let  them  look  in  his  face  that  usurped  his  hearth ; 
Let  them  vanquish  him,  they  who  can  ! 

"  Owen  Eoe,  our  own  O'Neill  — 
He  treads  once  more  our  land ! 
The  sword  in  his  hand  is  of  Spanish  steel, 
But  the  hand  is  an  Irish  hand ! 


Montgomery,  Conway  1  base-born  crew  I 

This  day  ye  shall  learn  an  old  lesson  anew ! 

Thou  art  red  with  sunset  this  hour,  Blackwater; 

But  twice  ere  now  thou  wert  red  with  slaughter ! 

Another  O'Neill  by  the  ford  they  met ; 

And  "  the  bloody  loaming  "  men  name  it  yet ! 

"  Owen  Roe,  our  own  O'Neill  — 
He  treads  once  more  our  land ! 
The  sword  in  his  hand  is  of  Spanish  steel, 
But  the  hand  is  an  Irish  hand  ! 

"  The  storm  of  battle  rings  out !    On !  on ! 
Shine  well  in  their  faces,  thou  setting  sun ! 
The  smoke  grows  crimson  :  from  left  to  right 

-  Swift  flashes  the  spleenful  and  racing  light ; 
The  horses  stretched  forward  with  belly  to  ground : 
On !  on !  like  a  lake  which  has  burst  its  bound. 
Through  the  clangour  of  brands  rolls  the  laughter  of  cannon : 
Wind-borne  it  shall  reach  thine  old  walls,  Dungannon. 


886 


TJIE  STORY  or  IRELAND. 


Our  widow 'd  cathedrals  an  ancient  strain 

To-morrow  triumphant  shall  chant  again. 

On  !  on  !    This  night  on  thy  banks,  Lough  Neagh, 

Men  born  in  bondaoe  shall  couch  them  free. 

On,  warriors.  lauiK  ITd  by  a  warrior's  hand! 

Four  years  ye  wcif  leash'd  in  a  brazen  band; 

He  counted  youi'  bones,  and  he  meted  your  might, 

This  hour  he  dashes  you  into  the  fight ! 

Strong  Sun  of  the  Battle  !  —  great  chief,  whose  ey% 

Wherever  it  gazes  makes  victory  — 

This  hour  thou  shalt  see  them  do  or  die ! 

"  Owen  Roe,  our  own  O'Neill  — 
He  treads  once  more  our  land ! 
The  sword  in  his  hand  is  of  Spanish  steel, 
But  the  hand  is  an  Irish  hand ! 

"  Through  the  dust  and  the  mist  of  the  golden  west, 

New^  hosts  draw  nigh  :  —  is  it  friend  or  foe  ? 
They  come  I  They  are  ours !  Like  a  cloud  their  vanguard  louri  I 

No  help  from  thy  brother  this  day,  Monro  1 
They  form  :  there  stand  they  one  moment,  still  — 

Now,  now  they  charge  under  banner  and  sign : 
They  breast,  unbroken,  the  slope  of  the  hill: 

It  breaks  before  them,  the  invader's  line ! 
Their  horse  and  their  foot  are  crushed  together 
Like  harbour-locked  ships  in  the  winter  weather, 
Each  dash'd  upon  each,  the  churn'd  wave  strewing 
With  wreck  upon  wreck,  and  ruin  on  ruin. 
The  spine  of  their  battle  gave  way  with  a  yell : 
Down  drop  their  standards  I  that  cry  was  their  knell  1 
Some  on  the  bank,  and  some  in  the  river. 
Struggling  they  lie  that  shall  rally  never. 

'T  was  God  fought  for  us !  with  hands  Of  might 
From  on  high  He  kneaded  and  shaped  the  fight. 
To  Him  be  the  praise  ;  what  He  wills  must  be  : 
With  Him  is  the  future :  for  blind  are  we. 
Let  Ormond  at  will  make  tei-ms  or  refuse  them ; 
Let  Charles  the  confederates  win  or  lose  them ; 
Uplift  the  old  faith,  and  annul  the  old  strife, 
Or  cheat  us,  and  forfeit  his  kingdom  and  life  j 


THE  f^TOBY  OF  IBtJLAND, 


387 


Come  hereafter  what  must  or  may, 

Ulster,  thy  cause  is  avenged  today ! 

What  fraud  took  from  us  and  force,  the  sword 

That  strikes  in  daylight  makes  ours  restored. 

"  Owen  Roe,  our  own  O'Neill  — 
He  treads  once  more  our  land  ! 
The  sword  in  his  hand  is  of  Spanish  steel, 
But  the  hand  is  an  Irish  hand ! " 


CHAPTER  LVIII. 

HOW  THE  KING  DISAVOWED  THE  TREATY,  AND  THE 
IRISH  REPUDIATED  IT.  HOW  THE  COUNCIL  BY  A 
WORSE  BLUNDER  CLASPED  HANDS  WITH  A  SACRI- 
LEGIOUS MURDERER,  AND  INCURRED  EXCOMMUNI- 
CATION. HOW  AT  LENGTH  THE  ROYALISTS  AND 
CONFEDERATES  CONCLUDED  AN   HONOURABLE  PEACE. 

LATED  by  this  great  victory,  that  party  in  the 
confederation  of  which  O'Neill  was  the  military 
favourite,  and  the  nuncio  the  head,  now  became 
outspoken  and  vehement  in  their  denunciations 
of  the  temporisers.  And  opportunely  for  them  came  the 
news  from  England  that  the  miserable  Charles,  on  finding 
that  his  commission  to  Glamorgan  had  been  discovered, 
repudiated  and  denied  the  whole  transaction,  notwith- 
standing the  formal  commission  duly  signed  and  sealed 
by  him,  exhibited  to  the  confederate  council  by  his  envoy ! 
Ormond,  nevertheless,  as  strongly  exhorted  the  "peace 
party"  to  hold  firm,  and  to  consider  for  the  hard  position 
of  the  king,  which  compelled  him  to  prevaricate !  But 
the  popular  spirit  was  aroused,  and  Rinuccini,  finding  the 


888 


THE  STOHY  OF  lUF.LAND. 


tide  with  him,  acted  with  a  high  hand  against  the  "  Or- 
mondists,"  treating  them  as  malcontents,  even  arresting 
and  imprisoning  them  as  half-traitors,  whereas,  howsoever 
wrong  their  judgment  and  halting  their  action,  they  were 
the  (majority  of  the)  lawfully  elected  government  of  the 
confederation. 

New  elections  were  ordered  throughout  the  country  for 
a  new  general  assembly,  which  accordingly  met  at  Kil- 
kenny, 10th  January,  1647.  This  body  by  an  overwhelm- 
ing majority  condemned  the  peace  as  invalid  ah  initio^ 
inasmuch  as  it  notably  fell  short  of  the  oath  of  federa- 
tion ;  but  the  conduct  of  the  commissioners  and  majority 
of  the  council  was  generously,  and  indeed  justly,  de*clared 
to  have  been  animated  by  good  faith  and  right  intentions. 
The  feuds,  however,  were  but  superficially  healed ;  discord 
and  suspicion  caused  the  confederate  generals,  according 
as  they  belonged  to  the  conflicting  parties  —  the  "Pale 
English  "or  the  ''Native  Irish"  —  to  fear  each  other  as 
much  as  the  Puritan  enemy.  Meanwhile  an  Irish  Attila 
was  drenching  Munster  in  blood  —  Morrough  O'Brien, 
Lord  Inchiquin,  called  to  this  day  in  popular  traditions 
"  Morrough  of  the  Burnings,"  from  the  fact  that  the  firma- 
ment over  his  line  of  march  was  usually  blackened  by  the 
smoke  of  his  burnings  and  devastations.^  One  monster 
massacre  on  his  part  filled  all  the  land  with  horror.  He 
besieged  and  stormed  Cashel.  The  women  and  children 
took  refuge  in  the  grand  cathedral  on  the  rock,  the  ruins 


1  This  dreadful  man  was  one  of  the  first  and  bitterest  fruits  of  the 
"  Court  of  Wards  "  scheme,  which  in  the  previous  reign  was  appointed  for 
the  purpose  of  seizing  the  infant  children  of  the  Catholic  nobility,  and 
bringing  them  up  in  hatred  and  horror  of  the  faith  of  their  fathers.  O'Brien 
had  been  thus  seized  when  a  child,  and  thus  brought  up  by  the  "  Court  of 
Wards  "  —  to  what  purpose  has  just  been  illustrated.  It  would  hardly  be 
fair  to  the  English  to  say  such  a  scheme  had  no  jiarallel  ;  for  history  records 
that  the  Turks  used  to  seize  the  children  of  the  subject  Christians,  and  train 
them  up  to  be  the  bloodiest  in  fury  against  their  own  race  and  creed  I 


TUE  STOIIY  OF  IRELAND. 


389 


of  which  still  excite  the  tourist's  admiration.  "  Inchiquin 
poured  in  volleys  of  musket  balls  through  the  doors  and 
windows,  unmoved  by  the  piercing  shrieks  of  the  crowded 
victims  within,  and  then  sent  in  his  troopers  to  finish  with 
pike  and  sabre  the  work  which  the  bullets  had  left  incom- 
plete. The  floor  was  encumbered  with  piles  of  mangled 
bodies,  and  twenty  priests  who  had  sought  shelter  under 
the  altars  were  dragged  forth  and  slaughtered  with  a  fury 
which  the  mere  extinction  of  life  could  not  half  appease."  ^ 
Ere  the  horror  excited  by  this  hideous  butchery  had  died 
away,  the  country  heard  with  consternation  that  the  Su- 
preme Council  of  the  Confederation  had  concluded  a 
treaty  with  Inchiquin,  as  a  first  step  towards  securing  his 
alliance.  In  vain  the  nuncio  and  the  bishops  protested 
against  alliance  or  union  with  the  man  whose  hands  were 
still  wet  and  red  with  the  blood  of  anointed  priests,  mas- 
sacred at  the  altar!  The  majority  of  the  council  evi- 
dentty  judged  —  sincerely,  it  may  be  credited  —  that 
under  all  the  circumstances  it  was  a  substantial  good  to 
make  terms  with,  and  possibly  draw  over  to  the  royal 
cause,  a  foe  so  powerful.  The  bishops  did  not  look  on 
the  question  thus ;  nor  did  the  lay  (native)  Irish  leaders. 
The  former  recoiled  in  horror  from  communion  with  a 
sacrilegious  murderer ;  the  latter,  to  like  aversion  joined 
an  absolute  suspicion  of  his  treachery,  and  time  justified 
their  suspicions.  The  truce  nevertheless  was  signed  at 
Dungarvan  on  the  20th  of  May,  1648.  Fully  conscious 
that  the  nuncio  and  the  national  party  would  resist  such 
an  unholy  pact,  the  contracting  parties  bound  themselves 
to  unite  their  forces  against  whomsoever  would  assail  it. 
Accordingly  Preston,  the  favourite  general  of  the  Or- 
mondist "  Confederates,  joined  his  troops  to  those  of  Inchi- 
quin to  crush  O'Neill,  whom  with  good  cause  they  feared 


1  Haverty. 


390 


TEE  tiTOEY  OF  IRELAyD. 


most,  Five  days  after  the  ^'league  with  sacrilege  and 
murder  "  was  signed,  the  nuncio  published  a  sentence  of 
excommunication  against  its  abettors,  and  an  interdict 
against  all  cities  and  towns  receiving  it.  Having  posted 
this  proclamation  on  the  gates  of  the  cathedral,  he  made 
his  escape  from  the  city,  and  repaired  to  the  camp  of 
O'Neill  at  Maryboro'.  Four  months  of  wild  confused 
conflict  —  all  the  old  actors,  with  barely  a  few  exceptions, 
having  changed  sides  or  allies  —  were  ended  in  September, 
by  the  arrival  of  Ormond  at  Cork  —  (he  had  fled  to  France 
after  an  unaccountable  if  not  traitorous  surrender  of  Dub- 
lin to  the  Puritans)  —  expressing  willingness  to  negotiate 
anew  with  the  confederation  on  the  part  of  the  king  and 
his  friends,  on  the  basis  of  Glamorgan's  ^Vs^  treaty.  Four 
months  subsequently  —  on  the  17th  January,  1649  —  this 
•  treaty,  fully  acceptable  to  all  parties,  was  finally  ratified 
and  published  amidst  great  rejoicings  ;  and  the  seven  years* 
war  was  brought  to  an  end! 

Ormond  and  his  royal  master  had  wasted  four  years  in 
vain,  hesitating  over  the  one  clause  which  alone  it  may  be 
said  was  at  issue  between  them,  and  the  Irish  national 
party  —  that  one  simply  securing  the  Catholic  religion 
against  proscription  and  persecution,  and  stipulating  the 
restriction  of  further  spoliation  of  the  churches.  Its  simple 
justice  was  fully  conceded  in  the  end.  Too  late  I  Scarcely 
had  the  rejoicings  over  the  happy  peace,  or  rather  the 
alliance  between  the  English,  Scotch,  and  Irish  royalists. 
Catholic  and  Protestant,  ceased  in  Ireland,  when  the  news 
of  the  king's  death  in  London  shocked  the  land.  Charles, 
as  already  mentioned,  had  flung  himself  upon  the  loyalty 
of  the  Scottish  parliament,  in  which  the  Lowland  covenant- 
ing element  predominated.  His  rebellious  subjects  on  the 
southern  side  of  the  border,  thirsting  for  his  blood,  offered 
to  buy  him  from  the  Scots.  After  a  short  time  spent  in 
haggling  over  the  bargain,  those  canny  saints  sold  the  uri- 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


891 


fortunate  Charles  for  a  money  price  of  four  hundred  thou- 
sand pounds — an  infamy  for  which  the  world  has  not  a 
parallel.  The  blood-money  was  duly  paid,  and  the  Eng- 
lish bore  their  king  to  London,  where  they  murdered  him 
publicly  at  Whitehall  on  the  30th  January,  1649. 

A  few  weeks  after  this  event  the  uncompromising  and 
true-hearted,  but  impetuous  and  imperious  nuncio,  Rinuc- 
cini,  bade  adieu  to  the  hapless  land  into  whose  cause  he 
had  entered  heart  and  soul,  but  whose  distractions  pros- 
trated his  warm  hopes.  He  sailed  from  Galway  for  home, 
in  his  ship  the  San  Pietro^  on  the  23d  February,  1649. 

And  now,  while  the  at-length  united  confederates  and 
royalists  are  proclaiming  the  young  Prince  of  Wales  a^s 
king  throughout  Ireland,  lo  I  the  huge  black  shadow  of  a 
giant  destroyer  near  at  hand  is  flung  across  the  scene  ! 


CHAPTER  LIX, 

HOW  CROMWELL  LED  THE  PURITAN  REBELS  INTO  IRE- 
LAND. HOW  IRELAND  BY  A  LESSON  TOO  TERRIBLE 
TO  BE  FORGOTTEN  W^AS  TAUGHT  THE  DANGER  OF  TOO 
MUCH  LOYALTY  TO  AN  ENGLISH  SOVEREIGN. 

is  the  figure  of  the  great  Regicide  that  looms 
up  at  this  period,  like  a  huge  colossus  of  power 
and  wrath.  The  English  nation  caused  Oliver 
Cromwell's  body  to  be  disinterred  and  hung  in 
chains,  and  buried  at  the  gallows  foot.  Even  in  our  own 
day  that  nation,  I  believe,  refuses  to  him  a  place  amidst 
the  statues  of  its  famous  public  men,  set  up  in  the  legis- 
lative palace  at  Westminster.  If  England  honoured  none 
of  her  heroes  who  were  not  good  as  well  as  greats  this 


302 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


would  be  more  intelligible  and  less  inconsistent.  She  gave 
birth  to  few  greater  men,  whose  greatness  is  judged  apart 
from  virtue  ;  and,  if  she  honours  as  her  greatest  philoso- 
pher and  moralist  the  corrupt  and  venal  lord  chancellor 
Bacon,  degraded  for  selling  his  decisions  to  the  highest 
bribe,  it  is  the  merest  squeamishness  to  ostracise  the 
"  Great  Protector,"  because  one  king  was  amongst  his 
murdered  victims. 

England  has  had  for  half  a  thousand  years  few  sove- 
reign rulers  to  compare  in  intellect  with  this  "  bankrupt 
brewer  of  Huntingdon."  She  owes  much  of  her  latter-day 
European  prestige  to  his  undoubted  national  spirit ;  for 
though  a  despot,  a  bigot,  and  a  canting  hypocrite,  he  was 
a  thorough  nationalist  as  an  Englishman.  And  she  owes 
not  a  little  of  her  constitutional  liberty  to  the  democratic 
principles  with  which  the  republican  party,  on  whose 
shoulders  he  mounted  to  power,  leavened  the  nation. 

In  1649,  the  Puritan  revolution  had  consumed  all  op- 
position in  England ;  but  Ireland  presented  an  inviting 
field  for  what  the  Protector  and  his  soldiery  called  the 
work  of  the  Lord."  There  their  passions  would  ho,  fully 
aroused ;  and  there  their  vengeance  would  have  full  scope. 
To  pull  down  the  throne,  and  cut  off  Charles's  head,  was, 
after  all  (according  to  their  ideas),  overthrowing  only  a 
political  tyranny  and  an  episcopal  dominance  amongst  their 
own  fellow  countrymen  and  fellow  Protestants.  But  in 
Ireland  there  was  an  idolatrous  people  to  be  put  to  the 
sword,  and  their  fertile  country  to  be  possessed.  Glory, 
hallelujah  !  The  bare  prospect  of  a  campaign  there  threw 
all  the  Puritan  regiments  into  ecstacies.  It  was  the  sum- 
mons of  the  Lord  to  His  chosen  people  to  cross  the  Jor- 
dan and  enter  the  promised  land ! 

In  this  spirit  Cromwell  came  to  Ireland,  landing  at 
Dublin  on  the  14th  August,  1649.  He  remained  nine 
months.    Never,  perhaps,  in  the  same  space  of  time,  liad 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


393 


one  man  more  of  horror  and  desolation  to  show  for  him- 
self. It  is  not  for  any  of  the  ordinary  severities  of  war 
that  Cromwell's  name  is  infamous  in  Ireland.  War  is  no 
child's  play,  and  those  who  take  to  it  must  not  wail  if  its 
fair  penalties  fall  upon  them  ever  so  hard  and  heavy.  If 
Cromwell,  therefore,  was  merely  a  vigorous  and  "  thorough  " 
soldier,  it  would  be  unjust  to  cast  special  odium  upon  him. 
To  call  him  "savage  "  because  the  slain  of  his  enemies  in 
battle  might  have  been  enormous  in  amount,  would  be 
simply  contemptible.  But  it  is  for  a  far  different  reason 
Cromwell  is  execrated  in  Ireland.  It  is  for  such  butch- 
eries of  the  unarmed  and  defenceless  non-combatants  —  the 
ruthless  slaughter  of  inoffensive  women  and  children  —  as 
Drogheda  and  Wexford  witnessed,  that  he  is  justly  re- 
garded as  a  bloody  and  brutal  tyrant.  Bitterly,  bitterly, 
did  the  Irish  people  pay  for  their  loyalty  to  the  English 
sovereign  ;  an  error  they  had  just  barely  learned  to  com- 
mit, although  scourged  for  centuries  by  England  compel- 
ling them  thereto !  I  spare  myself  recital  of  the  horrors 
of  that  time.  Yet  it  is  meet  to  record  the  fact  that  not 
even  before  the  terrors  of  such  a  man  did  the  Irish  ex- 
hibit a  craven  or  cowardly  spirit.  Unhappily  for  their 
worldly  fortunes,  if  not  for  their  fame,  they  were  high- 
spirited  and  unfearing,  where  pusillanimity  would  certain- 
ly have  been  safety,  and  might  have  been  only  prudence. 
Owen  Roe  O'Neill  was  struck  down  by  death  early  in  the 
struggle,  and  by  the  common  testimony  of  friend  and  foe, 
in  him  the  Irish  lost  the  only  military  leader  capable  of 
coping  with  Cromwell.^    Nevertheless,  with  that  courage 

1  He  died  6tli  November,  16^9,  at  Cloughouj^hter  Castle,  county  Cavan, 
on  his  way  southward  to  effect  a  junction  with  Ormond  for  a  campaign 
against  Cromwell.  He  was  buried  in  the  cemetery  of  the  Franciscan  con- 
vent in  the  town  of  Cavan.  A  popular  tradition,  absurdly  erroneous,  to 
the  effect  that  he  died  by  poison  —  "  having  danced  in  poisoned  slippers  " 
—  has  been  adopted  by  Davis  in  his  "  Lament  for  the  Death  of  Oweu  Boe»" 
The  story,  however,  is  quite  apocry])hal. 


394 


THE  STOUY  OF  JMELAXD. 


which  unflinchingly  looks  ruin  in  the  face,  and  chooses 
death  before  dishonour,  the  Irish  fought  the  issue  out.  At 
length,  after  a  fearful  and  bloody  struggle  of  nearly  three 
years'  duration,  on  the  12th  Maj^  1652,  the  Leinster  army 
of  the  Irish  surrendered  on  terms  signed  at  Kilkenny, 
which  were  adopted  successively  by  the  other  principal 
armies  between  that  time  and  the  September  following, 
when  the  Ulster  forces  surrendered." 


CHAPTER  LX. 

THE  AGONY  OF  A  NATION. 

HAT  ensued  upon  the  Cromwellian  conquest 
of  Ireland  has  been  told  recently  in  a  book 
written  under  most  singular  circumstances  — 
a  compilation  from  state  records  and  official 
documents  —  a  book  which  the  reader  may  take  in  his 
hand,  and  challenge  the  wide  world  for  another  such  true 
story. 

About  one-and-twenty  years  ago  an  Irish  professional 
gentleman,  a  member  of  the  bar,  a  Protestant,  educated 
in  England,  belonging  to  one  of  those  noble  Anglo-Norman 
families,  who  early  identified  themselves  in  sympathy  with 
Ireland  as  the  country  of  their  adoption,  received  a  com- 
mission from  England  to  make  some  pedigree  researches 
in  Tipperary.''  He  was  well  qualified  for  a  task  which 
enlisted  at  once  the  abilities  of  a  jurist  and  the  attain- 
ments of  an  archj^eologist.  By  inclination  and  habit  far 
removed  from  the  stormy  atmosphere  of  politics,  his  life 
had  been  largely  devoted  to  the  tranquil  pursuits  of  study 
at  hoxne  or  iu  other  lands.    His  literary  and  philosophic 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


395 


tastes,  his  legal  schooling,  and  above  all  his  professional 
experience,  which  in  various  occupations  had  brought  him 
largely  into  contact  with  the  practical  realities  of  life  in 
Ireland,  aU  tended  to  give  him  an  interest  in  the  subject 
thus  committed  to  his  investigations.  His  client  little 
thought  however  —  for  a  long  time  he  little  dreamt  him- 
self—  that  to  the  accident  of  such  a  commission  would 
be  traceable  the  existence  subsequently  of  one  of  the  most 
remarkable  books  ever  printed  in  the  English  language  — 
The  Cromivellian  Settlement  of  Ireland,  by  Mr.  John  P. 
Prendergast. 

It  would  be  hopeless  to  attempt  to  abbreviate  or  sum- 
marize the  startling  romance,  the  mournful  tragedy  of 
history  —  the  record  of  a  nation's  woes  "  —  which  Mr. 
Prendergast,  as  he  tells  us,  discovered  in  the  dust-covered 
cell  of  that  gloomy  tower  in  Dublin  Castle  yard,  appar- 
ently the  same  that  once  was  the  dungeon  of  Hugh  Roe 
O'Donnell.^  I  therefore  relinquish  all  idea  of  following 
in  detail  the  transactions  which  immediately  followed  upon 
the  capitulation  of  the  Irish  armies  ;  when,*'  says  Mr. 
Prendergast,  there  took  place  a  scene  not  witnessed  in 
Europe  since  the  conquest  of  Spain  by  the  Vandals.*' 

1**1  now  thought  of  searching  the  Record  Commissioners'  Reports,  and 
found  there  were  several  volumes  of  the  very  date  required,  1650-1659, 
in  the  custody  of  the  clerk  of  the  privy  council,  preserved  in  the  heavily 
embattled  tower  which  forms  the  most  striking  feature  of  the  Castle  of 
Dublin.  They  were  only  accessible  at  that  day  through  the  order  of  the 
lord  lieutenant  or  chief  secretary  for  Ireland.  I  obtained,  at  length,  in  the 
month  of  September,  1849,  an  order.  It  may  be  easily  imagined  with  what 
interest  I  followed  the  porter  up  the  dark  winding  stone  staircase  of  this 
gloomy  tower,  once  the  prison  of  the  castle,  and  was  ushered  into  a  small 
central  space  that  seemed  dark,  even  after  the  dark  stairs  we  had  just  left. 
As  the  eye  became  accustomed  to  the  spot,  it  appeared  that  the  doors  of 
tive  cells  made  in  the  prodigious  thickness  of  the  tower  walls,  opened  on 
the  central  space.  From  one  of  them  Hugh  Roe  O'Douel  is  said  to  have 
escaped,  by  getting  down  the  privy  of  his  cell  to  the  Poddle  River  that  runs 
around  the  base  of  the  tower.  The  place  was  covered  with  the  dust  of 
Twenty  years  ;  but  opening  a  couple  of  volumes  of  the  statutes  —  one  as  u 
clean  spot  to  place  my  t-oat  upon,  the  other  to  sit  uu  —  I  took  my  seat  in  the 


396 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


Indeed,"  he  continues,  "  it  is  injustice  to  the  Vandals  to 
equal  them  with  the  English  of  1652  ;  for  the  Vandals 
came  as  strangers  and  conquerors  in  an  age  of  force  and 
barbarism ;  nor  did  they  banish  the  people,  though  they 
seized  and  divided  their  lands  by  lot ;  but  the  English  of 
1652  were  of  the  same  nation  as  half  of  the  chief  families 
in  Ireland,  and  at  that  time  had  the  island  under  their 
sway  for  five  hundred  years. 

"  The  captains  and  men  of  war  of  the  Irish,  amounting 
to  forty  thousand  men  and  upwards,  they  banished  into 
Spain,  where  they  took  service  under  that  king  ;  others  of 
them  with  a  crowd  of  orphan  girls  were  transported  to 
serve  the  English  planters  in  the  West  Indies ;  and  the 
remnant  of  the  nation  not  banished  or  transported  were 
to  be  transplanted  into  Connaught,  while  the  conquering 
army  divided  the  ancient  inheritances  of  the  Irish  amongst 
them  by  lot." 

James  essayed  the  plantation  of  Ulster,  as  Henry  and 
Elizabeth  had  the  colonization  of  Munster.  The  repub- 
lican parliament  went  much  farther,  "  improving  "  to  the 
full  their  dreadful  "opportunity."  They  decided  to  colo- 
nize three  provinces  —  Leinster,  Munster,  and  Ulster  — 

cell  exactly  opposite  to  the  one  just  mentioned,  as  it  looked  to  the  south 
over  the  castle  garden,  and  had  better  light.  In  this  tower  I  found  a  series 
of  Order  Books  of  the  Commissioners  of  the  Parliament  of  the  Common- 
wealth of  England  for  the  alfairs  of  Ireland,  together  with  domestic  corre- 
spondence and  Books  of  Establishments  from  1650  to  1659.  They  were 
marked  on  the  back  by  the  letter  A  over  a  number,  as  will  be  observed  in 
the  various  references  in  the  notes  to  the  present  sketch.  Here  I  found 
the  records  of  a  nation's  woes.  I  felt  that  I  had  at  last  reached  the  haven 
I  had  been  so  long  seeking.  There  I  sat,  extracting,  for  many  weeks,  until 
I  began  to  know  the  voices  of  many  of  the  corporals  that  came  with  the 
guard  to  relieve  the  sentry  in  the  castle  yard  below,  and  every  drum  and 
bugle  call  of  the  regiment  quartered  in  the  Ship  Street  barracks.  At  lengtli, 
between  the  labour  of  copying  and  excitement  at  the  astonishing  drama 
Jierforming,  as  it  were,  before  my  eyes,  my  heart  by  some  strange  move- 
ments warned  me  it  was  necessary  to  retire  for  a  time.  But  I  again  and 
again  returned  at  intervals,  sometimes  of  montlis,  sometimes  of  years,"-- 
Preface  to  The  Cromwellian  Settlement  <>/  Irdaml, 


mE  STORY  OF  tUELAND, 


397 


converting  the  fourth  (Connaught)  into  a  vast  encircled 
prison,  into  which  such  of  the  doomed  natives  as  were  not 
either  transported  as  white  slaves  to  Barbadoes,  kept  for 
servitude  by  the  new  settlers,  or  allowed  to  expatriate 
themselves  as  a  privilege,  might  be  driven  on  pain  of 
immediate  death ;  the  calculation  being,  that  in  the  deso- 
late tracts  assigned  as  their  unsheltered  prison  they  must 
inevitably  perish  ere  long. 

The  American  poet,  Longfellow,  has,  in  the  poem  of 
"  Evangeline,"  immortalized  the  story  of  Acadia.  How 
many  a  heart  has  melted  into  pity,  how  many  an  eye  has 
filled  with  tears,  perusing  his  metrical  relation  of  the 
"  transplanting  "  and  dispersion  of  that  one  little  commu- 
nity on  the  shore  of  the  basin  of  Minas  ! "  But  alas ! 
how  few  recall  or  realise  the  fact  —  if,  indeed,  aware  of  it 
at  all  —  that  not  one  but  hundreds  of  such  dispersions,  in- 
finitely more  tragical  and  more  romantic,  were  witnessed 
in  Ireland  in  the  year  1654,  when  in  every  hamlet  through- 
out three  provinces  "  the  sentence  of  expulsion  was  sped 
from  door  to  door  !  "  Longfellow  describes  to  us  how  the 
English  captain  read  aloud  to  the  dismayed  and  grief- 
stricken  villagers  of  Grand  Pre  the  decree  for  their  dis- 
persion. Unconsciously,  the  poet  merely  described  the 
form  directed  by  an  act  of  the  English  parliament  to  be 
adopted  all  over  Ireland,  when,  "  hy  heat  of  drumme  arid 
sound  of  trumpett^  on  some  markett  day,  within  tenn  days 
after  the  same  shall  come  unto  them  within  their  respec- 
tive precincts,"  "  the  governor  and  commissioners  of  reve- 
nue, or  any  two  or  more  of  them  within  every  precinct," 
were  ordered  to  publish  and  proclaim  this  present  dec- 
laration :  "  to  wit,  that  all  the  ancient  estates  and  farms 
of  the  people  of  Ireland  were  to  belong  to  the  adventurers 
and  the  army  of  England,  and  that  the  parliament  had 
assigned  Connaught  (America  was  not  then  accessible)  for 
the  habitation  of  the  Irish  nation,  ivhither  they  must  trans- 


THE  STOnr  OF  IttSLAND. 


plant  with  their  wives  and  daughters  and  children  before 
the  1st  May  following  (1654),  under  penalty  of  deaths  if 
found  on  this  side  of  the  Shannon  after  that  day^ 

"  Connaught  was  selected  for  the  habitation  of  all  the 
Irish  nation,"  we  are  reminded,  by  reason  of  its  being 
surrounded  by  the  sea  and  the  Shannon  all  but  ten  miles, 
and  the  whole  easily  made  into  line  by  a  few  forts.^ 
To  further  secure  the  imprisonment  of  the  nation,  and  to 
cut  them  off  from  relief  by  the  sea,  a  belt  four  miles  wide, 
commencing  one  mile  west  of  Sligo,  and  so  winding  along 
the  sea  coast  and  the  Shannon,  was  reserved  by  the  act 
(27th  September,  1653)  from  being  set  out  to  the  Irish, 
and  was  to  be  given  to  the  soldiery  to  plant."  The  Irish 
were  not  to  attempt  to  pass  ''the  four  mile  line,"  as  it  was 
called,  or  to  enter  a  walled  town  (or  to  come  within  five 
miles  of  certain  specified  towns)  ''  on  pain  of  deaths  ^ 

Need  we  marvel  that  all  over  the  land  the  loud  wail  of 
grief  and  despair  resounded  for  days  together?  It  was 
one  universal  scene  of  disti-acted  leave-taking,  and  then 
along  every  road  that  led  towards  Connaught,  each  a  via 
dolorosa^  the  sorrowing  cavalcades  streamed,  weary,  faint- 
ing, and  foot-sore,  weeping  aloud  I 

Towards  the  seaports  moved  other  processions ;  alas !  of 
not  less  mournful  character  —  the  Irish  regiments  march- 
ing to  embark  for  exile  ;  or  the  gangs  in  charge  to  be  trans- 
ported and  sold  into  slavery  in  the  pestilential  settlements 
of  the  West  Indies !    Of  young  boys  and  girls  alone  Sir 

1  "9th  March,  1654-5.  —  Order  —  Passes  over  the  Shannon  between 
Jamestown  and  Sligo  to  be  closed,  so  as  to  make  one  entire  line  between 
Connaught  and  the  adjacent  parts  of  Leinster  and  Ulster.'* 

2  "  How  strict  was  the  imprisonment  of  the  transplanted  in  Connaught 
may  be  judged  when  it  required  a  special  order  for  Lord  Trimbleston,  Sir 
Richard  Barnwall,  Mr.  Patrick  NetterviUe,  and  others,  then  dwelling  in  the 
suburbs  of  Athlone  on  the  Connaught  side,  to  pass  and  repass  the  bridge 
into  the  part  of  the  town  on  the  Leinster  side  on  their  business  ;  and  only 
on  giving  security  not  to  pass  without  special  leave  of  the  governor."  — 
CromwelUun  Settlement  •  with  ft  reference  to  the  Btat©  Record, 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


399 


William  Petty  confesses  six  thousand  were  thus  trans- 
ported ;  but  the  total  number  of  Irish  sent  to  perish  in 
the  tobacco  islands,  as  they  were  called,  were  estimated  in 
some  Irish  accounts  at  one  hundred  thousand/'  Force 
was  necessary  to  collect  them  ;  but  vain  was  all  resistance. 
Bands  of  soldiery  went  about  tearing  from  the  arms  of 
their  shrieking  parents,  young  children  of  ten  or  twelve 
years,  then  chaining  them  in  gangs,  they  marched  them  to 
the  nearest  port  I  Henry  Cromwell  (Oliver's  son),  who 
was  most  active  in  the  kidnapping  of  Irish  '  white  slaves,' 
writing  from  Ireland  to  Secretary  Thurloe,  says :  '  I  think 
it  might  be  of  like  advantage  to  your  affairs  there,  and 
ours  here,  if  3'ou  should  think  to  send  one  thousand  five 
hundred  or  two  thousand  young  boys  of  twelve  or  four- 
teen years  of  age  to  the  place  aforementioned  (West  In- 
dies). Who  knows  but  it  may  be  the  means  to  make  tkem 
Englishmen  —  I  mean,  rather.  Christians.'  Thurloe  an- 
swers :  '  The  committee  of  the  council  have  voted  one 
thousand  girls  and  as  many  youths  to  be  taken  uji  for  that 
purpose.' " 

The  piety  of  the  amiable  kidnapper  will  be  noted.  But 
it  was  always  so  with  his  class ;  whether  confiscating  or 
transplanting,  whether  robbing  the  Irish,  or  selling  them 
into  slavery,  it  was  always  for  their  spiritual  or  temporal 
good  —  to  sanctify  or  to  civilize  them.  Accordingly  we 
read  that  at  this  period  ^-  the  parliamentary  commissioners 
in  Dublin  published  a  proclamation  by  which  and  other 
edicts  any  Catholic  priest  found  in  Ireland  after  twenty 
days,  was  guilty  of  high  treason,  and  liable  to  be  hanged, 
drawn,  and  quartered  ;  any  person  harbouring  such  cler- 
gyman was  liable  to  the  penalty  of  death,  and  loss  of  goods 
and  chattels ;  and  any  person  knowing  the  place  of  con- 
cealment of  a  priest  and  not  disclosing  it  to  the  authori- 
ties, might  be  publicly  whipped,  and  further  punished  with 
amputation  of  ears. 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAJ^D. 


"Any  person  absent  from  the  parish  church  on  a  Sun- 
day was  liable  to  a  fine  of  thirty  pence  ;  magistrates  might 
take  away  the  children  of  Catholics  and  send  them  to  Eng- 
land for  education,  and  might  tender  the  oath  of  abjura- 
tion to  all  persons  at  the  age  of  twenty-one  years,  who,  on 
refusal,  were  liable  to  imprisonment  during  pleasure,  and 
the  forfeiture  of  two-thirds  of  their  real  and  personal 
estates. 

"Tlie  same  price  of  five  pounds  was  set  on  the  head 
of  a  priest  and  on  that  of  a  wolf,  and  the  production  of 
either  head  was  a  sufficient  claim  for  the  reward.  The  mili- 
tary being  distributed  in  small  parties  over  the  country, 
and  their  vigilance  kept  alive  by  sectarian  rancour  and  the 
promise  of  reward,  it  must  have  been  difficult  for  a  priest 
to  escape  detection ;  but  many  of  them,  nevertheless, 
braved  the  danger  for  their  poor  scattered  flocks ;  and, 
residing  in  caverns  in  the  mountains,  or  in  lonely  hovels 
in  the  bogs,  they  issued  forth  at  night  to  carry  the  con- 
solations of  religion  to  the  huts  of  their  oppressed  and 
suffering  countrymen."  ^ 

''Ludlow,"  continues  the  same  author,  "relates  in  his 
Memoirs  (vol.  i.,  page  422,  De  Vevay,  1691)  how,  when 
marching  from  Dundalk  to  Castleblaney,  probably  near 
the  close  of  1652,  he  discovered  a  few  of  the  Irish  in  a 
cave,  and  how  his  party  spent  two  days  in  endeavouring  to 
smother  them  by  smoke.  It  appears  that  the  poor  fugi- 
tives preserved  themselves  from  suffocation  during  this 
operation,  by  holding  their  faces  close  to  the  surface  of 
some  running  water  in  the  cavern,  and  that  one  of  this 
party  was  armed  with  a  pistol,  with  which  he  shot  the 
foremost  of  the  troopers  who  were  entering  the  mouth  of 
the  cave  after  the  first  day's  smoking.  Ludlow  caused  the 
trial  to  be  repeated,  and  the  crevices  through  which  the 


1  Haverty. 


THE  STORY  OF  IttELAXI). 


401 


smoke  escaped  having  been  closed,  *  another  smoke  was 
made.'  The  next  time  the  soldiers  entered  with  helmets 
and  breast-plates,  but  they  found  tlie  only  armed  man 
dead,  inside  the  entrance,  where  he  was  suffocated  at  his 
post ;  while  the  other  fugitives  still  preserved  life  at  the 
little  brook.  Fifteen  were  put  to  the  sword  within  the 
cave,  and  four  dragged  out  alive  ;  but  Ludlow  does  not 
mention  whether  he  hanged  these  then  or  not ;  but  one  at 
least  of  the  original  number  was  a  Catholic  priest,  for  the 
soldiers  found  a  crucifix,  chalice,  and  priest's  robes  in  the 
cavern.'' 

Of  our  kindred,  old  or  j^oung,  sold  into  slavery  in  the 
tobacco  islands,''  w^e  hear  no  more  in  history,  and  shall 
hear  no  more  until  the  last  great  accounting  day.  Of 
those  little  ones  —  just  old  enough  to  feel  all  the  pangs  of 
such  a  ruthless  and  eternal  severance  from  loving  mother, 
from  fond  father,  from  brothers  and  playmates,  from  all 
of  happiness  on  earth  —  no  record  tells  the  fate.  We  only 
know  that  a  few  years  subsequently  there  survived  of 
them  in  the  islands  barely  the  remembrance  that  they 
came  in  shiploads  and  perished  soon  — too  young  to  stand 
the  climate  or  endure  the  toil  I  But  at  home  —  in  the 
rifled  nest  of  the  parent's  heart  —  what  a  memory  of  them 
was  kept  I  There  the  image  of  each  little  victim  was 
enshrined ;  and  father  and  mother,  bowed  with  years  and 
suffering,  went  down  to  the  grave  ''still  thinking,  ever 
thinking "  of  the  absent,  the  cherished  one,  whom  they 
were  never  to  see  on  earth  again,  now  writhing  beneath  a 
planter's  lash,  or  filling  a  nameless  grave  in  Jamaican  soil  I 
Yes,  that  army  of  innocents  vanish  from  the  record  hew  : 
but  the  great  God  who  marked  the  slaughters  of  Herod, 
has  kept  a  reckoning  of  the  crime  that  in  that  hour  so 
notably  likened  Ireland  to  Rachel  weeping  for  her  chil- 
dren. 

But  there  was  another  army  —  other  of  the  expatriated 


402 


THE  STOUY  OF  IRELAXn. 


—  of  whom  ^Ye  are  not  to  lose  sight,  the  Irish  sword-- 
men,"  so  called  in  the  European  writings  of  the  time  ;  the 
Irish  regiments  who  elected  to  go  into  exile,  preferring  to 

.       .       .       .  "roam 
Where  freedom  and  their  God  might  lead/' 

rather  than  be  bondsmen  under  a  bigot-yoke  at  home. 

Foreign  natioais  were  apprised  by  the  Kilkenny  Articles 
that  the  Irish  were  to  be  allowed  to  engage  in  the  service 
of  any  state  in  amitj'  with  the  Commonwealth.  The 
valour  of  the  Irish  soldier  was  well  known  abroad.  From 
the  time  of  the  Munster  plantation  by  Queen  Elizabeth, 
numerous  exiles  had  taken  service  in  the  Spanish  army. 
There  were  Irish  regiments  serving  in  the  Low  Countries. 
The  Prince  of  Orange  declared  they  were  '  born  soldiers ; ' 
and  Henry  the  Fourth  of  France  publicly  called  Hugli 
O'Neill  '  the  third  soldier  of  the  age,'  and  he  said  there 
was  no  nation  made  better  troops  than  the  Irish  when 
drilled.  Agents  from  the  King  of  Spain,  the  King  of 
Poland,  and  the  Prince  De  Conde,  were  now^  contending 
for  the  services  of  Irish  troops.  Don  Ricardo  White,  in 
May,  1652,  shipped  seven  thousand  in  batches  from  Water- 
ford,  Kinsale,  Galway,  Limerick,  and  Bantry,  for  the  King 
of  Spain.  Colonel  Christopher  Mayo  got  liberty  in  Sep- 
tember, 1652,  to  beat  his  drums  to  raise  three  thousand  for 
the  same  king.  Lord  Muskerry  took  five  thousand  to  the 
King  of  Poland.  In  July,  1654,  three  thousand  five  hun- 
dred, commanded  by  Colonel  Edmund  Drover,  went  to 
serve  the  Prince  De  Conde.  Sir  Walter  Dungan  and  others 
got  liberty  to  beat  their  drums  in  different  garrisons,  to  a 
rallying  of  their  men  that  laid  down  arms  with  them  in 
order  to  a  rendezvous,  and  to  depart  for  Spain.  They  got 
permission  to  march  their  men  together  to  the  different 
ports,  their  pipers  perhaps  playing  '  Ha  til,  Ha  til.  Ha  til, 


THE  srOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


408 


mi  tuliclh  *  '  We  return,  we  return  no  more  I '  ^  Between 
1651  and  1664,  thirty-four  thousand  (of  whom  few  ever 
saw  their  loved  native  land  again)  were  transported  into 
foreign  parts.'*  ^ 

While  the  roads  to  Connaught  were  as  I  have  described 
witnessing  a  stream  of  hapless  fugitives  —  prisoners  rather, 
plodding  wearily  to  their  dungeon  and  grave  —  a  singular 
scene  was  going  on  in  London.  At  an  office  or  bureau 
appointed  for  the  purpose  by  government,  a  lottery  was 
lield,  whereat  the  farms,  houses,  and  estates  from  which 
the  owners  had  thus  been  driven,  were  being  drav/n  by 
or  on  behalf  of  the  soldiers  and  officers  of  the  army,  and 
the  "  adventurers  "  —  i,e,  petty  shopkeepers  in  London, 
and  others  who  had  lent  money  for  the  war  on  the  Irish. 
The  mode  of  conducting  the  lottery  or  drawing  was  regu- 
lated by  public  ordinance.  Not  unfrequently  a  vulgar  and 
illiterate  trooper  ''drew"  the  mansion  and  estate  of  an 
Irish  nobleman,  who  was  glad  to  accept  permission  to 
inhabit,  for  a  few  weeks  merely,  the  stable  or  the  cow- 
shed ^  with  his  lady  and  children,  pending  their  setting-out 
for  Connaught !  This  same  lottery  was  the  ''  settlement  " 
(varied  a  little  by  further  confiscations  to  the  same  end 
forty  years  subsequently)  by  which  the  now  existing 
landed  proprietary  was  planted  "  upon  Ireland.  Between 
a  proprietary  thus  planted  and  the  balk  of  the  popuhition, 
as  well  as  the  tenantry  under  them,  it  is  not  to  be  mar- 
velled that  feelings  the  reverse  of  cordial  prevailed.  Vyoxw 
the  first  they  scowled  at  each  other.  The  plundered  and 
trampled  people  despised  and  hated  the  "  Cromwelliaii 
brood,"  as  they  were  called,  never  regarding  them  as  more 


1  The  tune  with  which  the  departing  Highlanders  usually  bid  farewell 
to  their  native  shores."  —  Preface  to  Sir  Walter  Scott's  Legend  of  Montrose. 
Prendergast's  Cromwellian  Settlement. 

3  See  the  case  of  the  then  proprietor  of  the  magnificent  place  now  called 
Woodlands,  county  Duhlin.  —  CromveUimi  Settlement  of  Ireland. 


404 


THE  STOEY  OF  lEKLAND, 


than  vulgar  and  violent  usurpers  of  other  men's  estate^^. 
The  Cromwellians,  on  the  other  hand,  IVared  and  hated 
the  serf-peasantry,  whose  secret  sentiments  and  desires  of 
hostility  they  well  knew.  Nothing  but  the  fusing  spirit 
of  nationality  obliterates  such  feelings  as  these:  but  no 
such  spirit  was  allowed  to  fuse  the  (^romwellian  '•land- 
lords'' and  the  Irish  tenantry.  The  former  were  taught 
to  consider  themselves  as  a  foreign  garrison,  endowed  to 
watch  and  keep  down,  and  levy  a  land-tril)ute  off  the 
native  tillers  of  the  soil ;  moreover  the  salt  of  the  land.** 
the  elect  of  the  Lord,"  the  ruling  class,  alone  entitled  to 
be  ranked  as  saints  or  citizens.  So  they  looked  to  and 
leaned  all  on  England,  without  whom  tliey  thought  they 
must  be  massacred.  ^'  Aliens  in  race,  in  language,  and  in 
religion,''  they  had  not  one  tie  in  common  with  the  sub- 
ject population  ;  and  so  both  classes  unhappily  grew  up 
to  be  what  they  remain  very  much  in  our  own  day  —  more 
of  taskmasters  and  bondsmen  than  landlords  and  tenants. 


CHAPTER  LXL 

HOW  KING  CHARLES  THE  SECOND  CAME  BACK  ON  A 
COMPROMISE.  HOW  A  NEW  MASSACRE  STORY  WAS 
SET  TO  WORK.  THE  MARTYRDOM  OF  PRIMATE  PLUN- 
KETT. 

OSSESSED  of  supreme  power,  Cromwell,  by  a 
bold  stroke  of  usurpation,  now  changed  the  re- 
public to  wdiat  he  called  a  protectorate,"  witli 
a^-i^^l^  liimself  as  ''Protector;"  in  other  words,  a  king- 
dom, with  Oliver  as  king,  vice  Charles,  decapitated.  Tliis 
coup  d^itat  completely  disgusted  the  sincere  republicans 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


405 


of  the  Pym  and  Ludlow  school ;  and  on  the  death  of  the 
iron-willed  Protector,  8d  September,  1658,  the  whole 
structure  set  up  by  the  revolution  on  the  ruins  of  the 
monarchy  in  England  tottered  and  fell. 

Communication  had  been  opened  with  the  second 
Charles,  a  worthless,  empty-headed  creature,  and  it  was 
made  clear  to  him,  that  if  he  would  only  undertake  not 
to  disturb  too  much  the  vested  interests  "  created  during 
the  revolution  —  that  is,  if  he  would  undertake  to  let  the 
'•settlement  of  property"  (as  they  were  pleased  to  call 
their  stealing  of  other  men's  estates)  alone  —  his  return 
to  the  throne  might  be  made  easy.  Charles  was  delighted. 
This  proposal  only  asked  of  him  to  sacrifice  his  friends, 
now  no  longer  powerful,  since  they  had  lost  all  in  his 
behalf.  He  acquiesced,  and  the  monarchy  was  restored. 
The  Irish  nobility  and  gentry,  native  and  Anglo-Irish,  who 
had  been  so  fearfully  scourged  for  the  sin  of  loyaltj'  to  his 
father,  now  joyfully  expected  tliat  right  would  be  done, 
and  that  they  would  enjoy  their  own  once  more.  Tliey 
were  soon  undeceived.  Such  of  the- lottery  *'  speculat- 
ors, or  army  officers  and  soldiers  as  were  actually  in  pos- 
session of  the  estates  of  royalist  owners,  were  not  to  be 
disturbed.  Such  estates  only  as  had  not  actually  been 
"taken  up  "  were  to  be  restored  to  the  owners.  There 
was  one  class,  liowever,  whom  all  tlie  others  readih'  agreed 
might  be  robbed  without  any  danger  —  nay,  whom  it  was 
loudly  declared  to  be  a  crime  to  si^i  from  robbing  to 
the  last  —  namely,  the  Catholics  —  especialh'  the  ''Irish 
Papists."  The  reason  why,  was  i]')t  clear.  Everybody, 
on  the  contrary,  saw  that  they  had  suffered  most  of  all 
for  their  devoted  loyalty  to  the  murdered  king.  After 
awhile  a  low  murmur  of  compassion  —  muttering  even  of 
justice  for  them  —  began  to  be  heard  about  the  court. 
This  danger  created  great  alarm.  The  monstrous  idea  of 
justice  to  the  Catholics  was  surely  nol  to  be  endured; 


406 


THE  STORY  OF  IBELAXIJ. 


but  what  was  to  be  done  ?  Happy  thought !  "  —  imitate 
the  skilful  ruse  of  the  Irish  Puritans  in  starting  the  mas- 
sacre story  of  1641.  But  where  was  the  scene  of  massacre 
to  be  laid  this  time,  and  when  must  they  say  it  had  taken 
place  ?  This  was  found  to  be  an  irresistible  stopper  on  a 
new  massacre  story  in  the  past,  but  then  the  great  bound- 
less future  was  open  to  them :  could  they  not  say  it  was 
7/et  to  take  place?  A  blessed  inspiration  the  saintly  people 
called  this.  Yes;  they  could  get  up  an  anti-Catholic 
frenzy  with  a  massacre-story  about  the  future,  as  well  as 
with  one  relating  to  the  past ! 

Accordingly,  in  1678  the  diabolical  fabrication  known 
as  the  "  Great  Popish  Plot "  made  its  appearance.  The 
great  Protestant  historian,  Charles  James  Fox,  declared 
that  the  Popish  plot  story  "  must  always  be  considered  an 
indelible  disgrace  upon  the  English  nation.*'  Macaulay 
more  recently  has  still  more  vehemently  denounced  the 
infamy  of  that  concoction ;  and  indeed,  even  a  year  or  two 
after  it  had  done  its  work,  all  England  rang  with  execra- 
tions of  its  concoctors  —  several  of  whom,  Titus  Gates, 
the  chief  swearer,  especially,  suffered  the  penalty  of  their 
discovered  perjuries. 

But  the  plot-story  did  its  appointed  work  splendidly 
and  completely,  and  all  the  sentimental  horror  of  a  thou- 
sand Macaulays  could  nought  avail,  once  that  woi-k  was 
done.  A  proper  fmy  had  been  got  up  against  the  Catho- 
lics, arresting  the  idea  of  compassionating  them,  giving  full 
impetus  to  a  merciless  persecution  of  Popish  priests,  and, 
above  all  (crowning  merit !  )  effectually  silencing  all  sug- 
gestions about  restoring  to  Irish  Catholic  royalists  their 
estates  and  possessions.  Shaftesbury,  one  of  the  chief 
promoters  of  the  plot-story,  was  indeed  dragged  to  the 
tower  as  an  abominable  and  perjured  miscreant,  but  not 
until  the  scaffold  had  drunk  deep  of  Catholic  blood,  and 
Tyburn  had  been  the  scene  of  that  mournful  tragedy  — 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


407 


that  foul  and  heartless  murder  —  of  which  Oliver  Plunkett, 
the  sainted  martyr-primate  of  Ireland,  was  the  victim. ^ 

This  venerable  man  was  at  Rome  when  the  Pope  selected 
him  for  the  primacy.  A  bloody  persecution  was  at  the 
moment  raging  in  Ireland ;  and  Dr.  Plunkett  felt  that  the 
appointment  was  a  summons  to  martyrdom.  Nevertheless 
he  hastened  to  Ireland,  and  assumed  the  duties  of  his  posi- 
tion. Such  was  his  gentleness  and  purity  of  character,  his 
profound  learning,  the  piety,  and  indeed  sanctity,  of  his 
life,  that  even  the  Protestant  officials  and  gentry  round 
about  came  to  entertain  for  him  the  highest  respect  and 
personal  regard.  Prudent  and  circumspect,  he  rigidly- 
abstained  from  interference  in  the  troubled  politics  of  the 
period,  and  devoted  himself  exclusively  to  rigorous  re- 
forms of  such  irregularities  and  abuses  as  had  crept  into 
parochial  or  diocesan  affairs  during  the  past  century  of 
civil  war  and  social  chaos.  For  the  support  of  the  ''in- 
tended massacre  "  story  it  was  clearly  necessary  to  extend 
the  scene  of  the  plot  to  Ireland  (so  much  more  Popish 
than  England),  and  casting  about  for  some  one  to  put 
down  as  chief  conspirator,  the  constructors  of  the  story 
thought  the  head  of  the  Popish  prelates  ought  to  be  the 
man,  ex  officio.  The  London  government  accordingly 
wrote  to  the  Irish  lord  lieutenant  to  announce  that  the 
''Popish  plot"  existed  in  Ireland  also.    He  complied. 


1  Few  episodes  in  Irish  history  are  more  tragic  and  touching  than  that 
with  which  the  name  of  the  martyr-primate  is  associated,  and  there  have 
been  few  more  valuable  contributions  to  Irish  Catholic  or  historical  litera- 
ture in  our  generation  than  the  "  Memoir  "  of  this  illustrious  prelate  by  the 
Rev.  Dr.  Moran.  In  it  the  learned  reverend  author  has  utilised  the  rich 
stores  of  original  manuscripts  relating  to  the  period  —  many  of  them  letters 
in  the  martyr-primate's  handwriting  —  preserved  in  Rome,  and  has  made 
his  book  not  only  a  "memoir"  of  the  murdered  archbishop,  but  an  au- 
thentic history  of  a  period  momentous  in  its  importance  and  interest  for 
Irishmen.  A  much  briefer  work  is  the  Life  and  Death  of  Oliver  Plunkett,  by 
the  Rev.  George  Crolly,  a  little  book  which  tells  a  sad  story  in  language 
full  of  simi)le  pathos  and  true  eloquence. 


408 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


Next  he  was  to  resume  energetically  the  statutory  perse- 
cutions of  the  Papists.  This  also  he  obeyed.  Next  he 
was  directed  to  arrest  the  Popish  primate  for  complicity 
in  the  plot.  Here  he  halted.  From  the  correspondence 
it  would  appear  that  he  wrote  back  to  the  effect  that  this 
was  rather  too  strong,  inasmuch  as  even  amongst  the  ultra- 
Protestants,  the  idea  of  Dr.  Plunkett  being  concerned  in 
any  such  business  would  be  scouted.  Besides,  he  pointed 
out  there  was  no  evidence.  He  was  told  that  this  made  no 
matter,  to  obey  his  orders,  and  arrest  the  Primate.  He 
complied  reluctantly.  An  agent  of  the  Gates  and  Shaftes- 
bury gang  in  London,  Hetherington  by  name,  was  now  sent 
over  to  Dublin  to  get  up  evidence,  and  soon  proclamations 
were  circulated  through  all  the  jails,  offering  pardon  to  any 
criminal  —  murderer,  robber,  tory,  or  traitor  —  who  could 
(would)  give  the  necessary  evidence  against  the  Primate ; 
and  accordingly  crown  witnesses  by  the  dozen  competed 
in  willingness  to  swear  anything  that  was  required.  The 
Primate  was  brought  to  trial  at  Drogheda,  but  the  grand 
jury,  though  ultra-Protestant  to  a  man,  threw  out  the  bill  ; 
the  perjury  of  the  crown  witnesses  was  too  gross,  the  in- 
nocence of  the  meek  and  venerable  man  before  them  too 
apparent.  When  the  news  reached  London,  great  was  the 
indignation  there.  The  lord  lieutenant  was  at  once  di- 
rected to  send  the  Primate  thither,  where  no  such  squeam- 
ishness  of  jurors  would  mar  the  ends  of  injustice.  The 
hapless  prelate  was  shipped  to  London  and  brought  to 
trial  there.  Macaulay  himself  has  described  for  us  from 
original  authorities  the  manner  in  which  those  "  trials " 
were  conducted.  Here  is  his  description  of  the  witnesses, 
the  judges,  the  juries,  and  the  audience  in  court:  — 

"  A  wretch  named  Carstairs.  who  had  earned  a  living 
in  Scotland  by  going  disguised  to  conventicles,  and  then 
informing  against  the  preachers,  led  the  way ;  Bedloe,  a 
noted  swindler,  followed;  and  soon  from  all  the  brothels, 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


409 


gambling-houses,  and  sponging-houses  of  London,  false 
witnesses  poured  forth  to  swear  away  the  lives  of  Roman 
Catholics.  .  .  .  Oates,  that  he  might  not  be  eclipsed  bj^ 
his  imitators,  soon  added  a  large  supplement  to  his  origi- 
nal narrative.  The  vulgar  believed,  and  the  highest  magis- 
trates pretended  to  believe,  even  such  fictions  as  these. 
The  chief  judges  of  the  kingdom  were  corrupt,  cruel,  and 
timid.  •  .  .  The  juries  partook  of  the  feelings  then  common 
throughout  the  nation,  and  were  encouraged  by  the  bench 
to  indulge  those  feelings  without  restraint.  The  multitude 
applauded  Oates  and  his  confederates,  hooted  and  pelted 
the  witnesses  who  appeared  on  behalf  of  the  accused,  and 
shouted  with  joy  when  the  verdict  of  guilty  was  pro- 
nounced." 

Before  such  a  tribunal,  on  the  8th  of  June,  1681,  the 
aged  and  venerable  Primate  was  arraigned,  and  of  course 
convicted.  The  scene  in  court  was  ineffably  brutal.  In 
accordance  with  the  law  at  that  time,  the  accused  was 
allowed  no  counsel,  whereas  the  crown  was  represented 
by  the  Attorney-General  and  Sergeant  Maynard ;  the 
judges  being  fully  as  ferocious  as  the  official  prosecutors. 
Every  attempt  made  by  the  venerable  victim  at  the  bar 
to  defend  himself,  only  elicited  a  roar  of  anger  or  a  malig- 
nant taunt  from  one  side  or  the  other.  The  scene  has  not 
inappropriately  been  likened,  rather  to  the  torturing  of  a 
victim  at  the  stake  by  savage  Indians,  dancing  and  shout- 
ing wildly  round  him,  than  the  trial  of  a  prisoner  in  a 
court  of  law.  At  length  the  verdict  was  delivered ;  to 
which,  when  he  heard  it,  the  archbishop  simply  answered  : 
"  Deo  gratias!'^  Then  he  was  sentenced  to  be  drawn  on 
a  hurdle  to  Tyburn,  there  and  then  to  be  hanged,  cut 
down  while  alive,  his  body  quartered,  and  the  entrails 
burned  in  fire.  He  heard  this  infamous  decree  with  serene 
composure. 

"  But  looking  upward  full  of  grace, 
God's  glory  smote  him  on  the  face.'* 


410 


THE  si  OllY  OF  lUELAND. 


Even  amongst  ':he  governing  party  there  were  many 
who  felt  greatly  shocked  by  this  conviction.  The  thing 
was  too  glaring.  The  Protestant  archbishop  of  Dublin 
(who  seems  to  have  been  a  humane  and  honourable  man) 
expressed  aloud  his  horror,  and  fearlessly  declared  tlie 
Catholic  primate  as  innocent  of  the  crimes  alleged  as  an 
nnborn  child.  But  no  one  durst  take  on  himself  at  the 
moment  to  stem  the  tide  of  English  popular  fury.  The 
Earl  of  Essex,  indeed,  hurried  to  the  king  and  vehemently 
besought  him  to  save  the  Irish  primate  by  a  royal  pardon. 
Charles,  terribly  excited,  declared  that  he,  as  well  as  every 
one  of  them,  knew  the  primate  to  be  innocent,  but,"' 
cried  he,  with  passionate  earnestness,  ''^  ye  could  have  saved 
him  ;  /cannot  —  you  know  well  I  dare  not." 

Then,  like  Pontius  Pilate,  he  desired  "the  blood  oi  this 
innocent  man  "  to  be  on  their  heads,  not  his.  The  law 
should  take  its  course. 

''The  law"  did  ''take  its  course."  The  sainted  Plun- 
kett  was  dragged  on  a  hurdle  to  Tyburn  amidst  the  yells 
of  the  London  populace.  There  he  was  hanged,  beheaded, 
quartered,  and  disembowelled,  "  according  to  law,"  July 
1st,  1681. 

Soon  after,  as  I  have  already  intimated,  the  popular 
delirium  cooled  down,  and  everybody  began  to  see  that 
rivers  of  innocent  Catholic  blood  had  been  made  to  flow 
without  cause,  crime,  or  offence.  But  what  of  that  ?  A 
most  salutary  check  had  been  administered  to  the  appre- 
hended design  of  restoring  to  Catholic  royalists  the  lands 
they  had  lost  through  their  devotion  to  the  late  king. 
The  "Popish  Plot"  story  of  1678,  like  the  great  massacre 
story  of  1641,  had  accomplished  its  allotted  work. 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


411 


CHAPTER  LXII. 

HOW  KING  JAMES  THE  SECOND,  BY  ARBITRARILY  AS- 
SERTING LIBERTY  OF  CONSCIENCE,  UTTERLY  VIOLATED 
THE  WILL  OF  THE  ENGLISH  NATION.  HOW  THE  ENG- 
LISH AGREED,  CONFEDERATED,  COMBINED,  AND  CON- 
SPIRED TO  DEPOSE  THE  KING,  AND  BEAT  UP  FOR 
"FOREIGN  emissaries"  TO  COME  AND  BEGIN  THE 
REBELLION  FOR  THEM. 

the  6th  February,  1685,  Charles  the  Second 
closed  a  life  the  chronicles  of  which  may  be 
searched  in  vain  for  a  notable  act  of  goodness, 
wisdom,  valour,  or  virtue.  On  his  death-bed  he 
openly  professed  the  faith  which  for  years  past,  if  not  at 
all  times,  he  had  secretly  believed  in,  but  dared  not  pub- 
licly avow  —  Catholicity.  The  man,  however,  on  whom 
now  devolved  the  triple  crown  of  England,  Scotland,  and 
Ireland  —  Charles's  brother,  James,  Duke  of  York  —  was 
one  who  had  neither  dissembled  nor  concealed  his  religious 
convictions.  He  was  a  sincere  Catholic,  and  had  endured 
mu<3h  of  trouble  and  persecution  in  consequence  of  his 
profession  of  that  faith.  He  was  married  to  the  young  and 
beautiful  Princess  Mary  of  Modena,  an  ardent  Catholic 
like  himself,^  and  the  ultra-Protestant  party  witnessed  his 
accession  to  the  throne  with  undisguised  chagrin  and  sul- 
len discontent. 

All  writers  have  agreed  in  attributing  to  James  the  Sec- 


1  She  was  his  second  wife,  and  had  been  married  to  him  at  the  age  of 
fifteen.  By  his  first  wife,  Ann,  daughter  of  ChanceUor  Hyde,  he  had  two 
daughters,  who  were  brought  up  Protestants  by  their  mother.  They  were 
married,  one,  Mary,  to  Prince  WiUiam  of  Orange  ;  the  other,  Ann,  to 
Prince  George  of  Denmark. 


412 


THE  STORY  OF  IB  ELAND. 


011(1  a  disregard  of  the  plainest  dictates  of  prudence,  if  not 
of  the  plainest  limits  of  legality,  in  the  measures  he  adopted 
for  the  accomplislimeiit  of  a  purpose  unquestionably  equi- 
table, laudable,  and  beneficent  —  namely,  the  abolition  of 
proscription  and  persecution  for  conscience*  sake,  and  the 
establishment  of  religious  freedom  and  equality.  It  may 
be  said,  and  with  perfect  truth,  that  though  this  was  so, 
though  James  was  rash  and  headlong,  it  mattered  little 
after  all,  for  the  end  he  aimed  at  was  so  utterly  opposed 
to  the  will  of  the  English  people,  so  inconsistent  with 
"  vested  interests  "  throughout  all  three  kingdoms,  that  it 
was  out  of  all  possibility  he  could  have  succeeded,  whether 
he  were  politic  and  cautious,  or  straightforward,  arbitrary, 
and  rash.  For  the  English  nation  was  too  strongly  bent 
on  thorough  persecution,  to  be  barred  in  its  course,  or  di- 
verted into  tolerance  or  humanity  by  any  power  of  king  or 
queen ;  and  already  the  English  people  had  made  it  plain 
that  no  man  should  be  ruler  over  them  who  would  not  be 
of  their  mind  on  this  subject.  But  James's  conduct  ren- 
dered his  overthrow  simply  inevitable.  Before  he  was  well 
seated  on  the  throne,  he  had  precipitated  conflicts  witii 
the  judges,  the  bishops,  and  parliament  ;■  the  point  of  con- 
tention, to  be  sure,  being  mainly  his  resolution  of  granting 
freedom  of  conscience  to  all  creeds.  It  was  in  Ireland, 
however,  that  this  startling  programme  evoked  the  wild- 
est sensation  of  alarm  on  the  one  hand,  and  rejoicing  on 
the  other ;  and  it  was  there  that,  inevitably,  owing  to  the 
vast  preponderance  of  the  Catholic  population,  relative 
equality  appeared  to  the  Protestant  eye  as  absolute  Catho- 
lic dominance.  Two  Catholic  judges  and  one  Protestant 
may  have  been  even  short  of  the  Catholic  proportion  ;  yet 
the  .Protestant  colony  would  not  look  at  the  question  in 
this  way  at  all,  and  they  called  it  intolerable  Popish 
ascendency.  James  had  selected  for  the  carrying  out  v( 
his  views  in  Ireland  a  man  whose  faults  greatly  reseni- 


rriK  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


41S 


bled  his  own,  Richard  Talbot,  subsequently  Earl  and 
Duke  of  Tj'rconnell.  He  was  devotedly  attached  to  the 
king ;  a  courtier,  not  a  statesman ;  rash,  vain,  self-willed ; 
a  faithful  and  loyal  friend,  but  a  famous  man  to  lose  a 
kingdom  with. 

If  the  Irish  Catholics  had  indulged  in  hopes  on  the 
accession  successively  of  James's  grandfather,  father,  and 
brother,  what  must  have  been  their  feelings  now?  Here, 
assuredly,  there  was  no  room  for  mistake  or  doubt.  A 
king  resolved  to  befriend  them  was  on  the  throne  I  Tiie 
land  burst  forth  into  universal  rejoicing.  Out  from  hiding 
place  in  cellar  and  garret,  cavern  and  fastness,  came  hunted 
prelate  and  priest,  the  surplice  and  the  stole,  the  chalice 
and  the  patten ;  and  once  more,  in  the  open  day  and  in 
the  public  churches,  the  ancient  rites  were  seen.  Tlie 
people,  awakened  as  if  from  a  long  trance  of  sorrow, 
heaved  with  a  new  life,  and  with  faces  all  beaming  and 
radiant  went  about  in  crowds  chanting  songs  of  joy  and 
gratitude.  One  after  one,  the  barriers  of  exclusion  were 
hiid  low,  and  the  bulk  of  the  population  admitted  to  equal 
rights  with  the  colonist-Protestants.  In  fine,  all  men  were 
declared  equal  in  the  eye  of  the  law,  irrespective  of  creed 
or  race ;  an  utter  reversion  of  the  previous  system,  which 
constituted  the  "  colony  "  the  jailers  of  the  fettered  nation. 

Ireland  and  England  accordingly  seethed  with  Protes- 
tant disaffection,  but  there  was  an  idea  that  the  king  would 
die  without  legitimate  male  issue,^  and  so  the  general  reso- 
lution seemed  to  be  that  in  a  few  years  all  would  be  right, 
and  these  abominable  ideas  of  religious  tolerance  swept 
away  once  more.  To  the  consternation  and  dismay  of 
the  anti-tolerance  party,  however,  a  son  was  born  to  James 
in  June,  1688.  There  was  no  standing  this.  It  was  the 
signal  for  revolt. 


1  Four  children  born  to  him  by  his  second  wife,  all  died  young,  and 
some  years  had  now  elapsed  without  the  birth  of  any  other. 


414 


THE  STOBY  OF  ITlELANT). 


On  this  occasion  no  native  insurrection  initiated  the 
revolution.  In  this  crisis  of  their  history  —  this  moment 
in  which  was  moulded  and  laid  down  the  basis  of  the  Eng- 
lish constitution  as  it  exists  to  our  owii  time  —  the  English 
nation  asserted  by  precept  and  practice  the  truly  singu- 
lar doctrine,  that  even  for  the  purpose  of  overthrowing  a 
legitimate  native  sovereign,  conspiring  malcontents  act 
well  and  wisely  in  depending  upon  ''foreign  emissaries  to 
come  and  begin  the  work  —  and  complete  it  too  !  So  they 
invited  the  Dutch,  and  the  Danes,  and  the  Swedes,  and 
the  French  Calvinists  —  and  indeed,  for  that  matter,  foreign 
emissaries  from  every  country  or  any  country  who  would 
aid  them  —  to  come  and  help  them  in  their  rebellion  against 
their  king.  To  the  Stadtholder  of  Holland,  William  Prince 
of  Orange,  they  offered  the  throne,  having  ascertained  that 
he  would  accept  it  without  any  qualms,  on  the  ground 
that  the  king  to  be  beheaded  or  driven  away  was  at  once 
his  own  uncle  and  father-in-law. 

This  remarkable  man  has  been  greatly  misunderstood, 
owing  to  the  fact  of  his  name  being  made  the  shibboleth  of 
a  faction  whose  sanguinary  fanaticism  he  despised  and  repu- 
diated. William  Henry  Prince  of  Orange  was  now  in  his 
thirty-seventh  year.  An  impartial  and  discriminating 
Catholic  historian  justly  describes  him  to  us  as  "  fearless 
of  danger,  patient,  silent,  imperious  to  his  enemies,  rather 
a  soldier  than  a  statesman,  indifferent  in  religion,  and  per- 
sonally adverse  to  persecution  for  conscience'  sake,'"  his 
great  and  almost  his  only  public  passion  being  the  humilia- 
tion of  France  through  the  instrumentality  of  a  European 
coalition.  In  the  great  struggle  against  French  prepon- 
derance on  the  continent  then  being  waged  by  the  league 
of  Augsburg,  William  was  on  the  same  side  with  the  rulers 
of  Austria,  Germany,  and  Spain,  and  even  with  th-e  Pope: 
James,  on  the  other  hand,  being  altogether  attached  to 
France.    In  his  designs  on  the  English  tlirone,  however, 


41o 


the  Dutch  prince  practised  the  grossest  deceit  on  his  con- 
federates of  the  league,  protesting  to  them  that  he  was 
coming  to  England  solely  to  compose  in  a  friendly  way  a 
domestic  quarrel,  one  of  the  results  of  which  would  be  to 
detach  James  from  the  side  of  France  and  add  England 
to  the  league.  By  means  of  this  duplicity  he  was  able  to 
bring  to  the  aid  of  his  English  schemes,  men,  money,  and 
material  contributed  for  league  purposes  by  his  continental 
colleagues. 

On  the  5th  of  November,  1688,  William  landed  at  Tor- 
bay  in  Devonshire.  He  brouglit  with  him  a  Dutch  fleet 
of  twenty-two  men  of  war,  twenty-five  frigates,  twenty- 
five  fire-ships,  and  about  four  hundred  transports ;  con- 
veying in  all  about  fifteen  thousand  men.  If  the  royal 
army  could  have  been  relied  upon,  James  might  easily 
have  disposed  of  these  invaders  "  or  'liberators  ;  "  but  the 
army  went  over  wholesale  to  the  "  foreign  emissaries." 
Thus  finding  himself  surrounded  by  treason,  and  having 
the  fate  of  his  hapless  father  in  remembrance,  James  took 
refuge  in  France,  where  he  arrived  on  the  25th  December, 
1688;  the  Queen  and  infant  Prince  of  Wales,  much  to  the 
rage  of  the  rebels,  having  been  safely  conveyed  thither 
some  short  time  previously.  The  revolutionary  party 
affected  to  think  the  escape  of  the  king  an  abdication, 
the  theory  being,  that  by  not  waiting  to  be  beheaded  he 
had  forfeited  the  throne. 

England  and  Scotland  unmistakably  declared  for  the 
revolution.  Ireland  as  unquestionably  —  indeed  enthusi- 
astically—  declared  for  the  king;  any  other  course  would 
be  impossible  to  a  people  amongst  whom  ingratitude  has 
been  held  infamous,  and  against  whom  want  of  chivalry  or 
generosity  has  never  been  alleged.  In  proportion  as  the 
Catholic  population  expressed  their  sympathy  with  the  king, 
the  "  colony Protestants  and  Cromwellianite  garrisons 
manifested  their  adhesion  to  the  rebel  cause,  and  beyan  to 


416 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


flock  from  all  sides  into  the  strong  places  of  Ulster,  bring- 
ing with  them  their  arms  and  ammunition.  Tyrconnell,  who 
had  vainly  endeavoured  to  call  in  the  government  arms  in 
their  hands  (as  militia)  now  commissioned  several  of  the 
Catholic  nobility  and  gentry  to  raise  regiments  of  more 
certain  loyalty  for  the  king's  service.  Of  recruits  there 
was  no  lack,  but  of  the  use  of  arms  or  knowledge  of  drill 
or  discipline,  these  recruits  knew  absolutely  nothing;  and 
of  arms,  of  equipments,  or  of  war  material  —  especially  of 
cannon  —  Tyrconnell  found  himself  almost  entirely  desti- 
tute. The  malcontents,  on  the  other  hand,  constituted  that 
class  which  for  at  least  forty  years  past  had  enjoyed  by 
law  the  sole  right  to  possess  arms,  and  who  had  from  child- 
hood, of  necessity,  been  trained  to  use  them.  The  royalist 
force  which  the  viceroy  sent  to  occupy  Derry  (a  Catholic 
regiment  newly  raised  hy  Lord  Antrim),  incredible  as  it 
may  appear,  had  for  the  greater  part  no  better  arms  than 
clubs  and  skians.  It  is  not  greatly  to  be  wondered  at 
that  the  Protestant  citizens  —  amongst  whom,  as  well  as 
throughout  all  the  Protestant  districts  in  Ireland,  anony- 
mous letters  had  been  circulated,  giving  out  an  intended 
Popish  massacre  "  ^  of  all  the  Protestants  on  the  9th  De- 
cember—  feared  to  admit  such  a  gathering  within  their 
walls.  "  The  impression  made  by  the  report  of  the  intended 
massacre,  and  the  contempt  naturally  entertained  for  foes 
armed  in  so  rude  a  fashion,"  were  as  a  matter  of  fact  the 
chief  incentives  to  the  ''closing  of  the  gates  of  Derry," 
which  event  we  may  set  down  as  the  formal  inauguration 
of  the  rebellion  in  Ireland. 


1  The  old,  old  story,  always  available,  always  efficacious  I 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


417 


CHAPTER  LXIII. 

HOW  WILLIAM  AND  JAMES  MET  FACE  TO  FACE  AT  THE 
BOYXE.  A  iPLAIX  SKETCH  OF  THE  BATTLE-FIELD  AND 
THE  TACTICS  OF  THE  DAY. 

IGHTEEX  montbs  afterwards,  two  armies  stood 
face  to  face  on  the  banks  of  the  Boyne.  King 
James  and  Prince  William  for  the  first  time  were 
to  contest  in  person  the  issues  between  them. 
The  interval  had  not  been  without  its  events.  In ' 
England  the  revolution  encountered  no  opposition,  and 
William  was  free  to  bring  against  Ireland  and  Scotland 
the  full  strength  of  his  British  levies,  as  well  as  of  his  for- 
eign auxiliaries.  Ireland,  Tyrconnell  was  quite  sanguine 
of  holding  for  King  James,  even  though  at  the  worst  Eng- 
land should  be  lost ;  and  to  arouse  to  the  full  the  enthu- 
siasm of  the  devoted  Gaels,  nay  possibly  to  bring  back  to 
their  allegiance  the  rebellious  Ulster  Protestants,  he  urged 
the  king  to  come  to  Ireland  and  assume  in  person  the 
direction  of  affairs.  King  Louis  of  France  concurred  in 
those  views,  and  a  squadron  was  prepared  at  Brest  to  carry 
the  fugitive  back  to  his  dominions.  ''Accompanied  by  his 
natural  sons,  the  Duke  of  Berwick  and  the  Grand  Prior 
Fitzjames,  by  Lieutenant-Generals  De  Rosen  and  De  Mau- 
mont,  Majors-General  De  Persignan  and  De  Lery  (or 
Geraldine),  about  a  hundred  officers  of  all  ranks,  and  one 
thousand  two  hundred  veterans,  James  sailed  from  Brest 
with  a  fleet  of  thirty-three  vessels,  and  landed  at  Kinsale 
on  the  12th  day  of  March  (old  style).  His  reception  by 
the  southern  population  was  enthusiastic  in  the  extreme. 
From  Kinsale  to  Cork,  from  Cork  to  Dublin,  his  progress 
was  accompanied  by  Gaelic  songs  and  dances,  by  Latin 


418 


THE  STOUT  OP  IRlELAlSft), 


orations,  loyal  addresses,  and  all  the  demonstrations  with 
which  a  popular  favourite  can  be  welcomed.  Nothing 
was  remembered  by  that  easily  pacified  people  but  his 
great  misfortunes,  and  his  steady  fidelity  to  his  and  their 
religion.  The  royal  entry  into  Dublin  was  the  crowning 
pageant  of  this  delusive  restoration.  With  the  tact  and 
taste  for  such  demonstrations  hereditary  in  the  citizens, 
the  trades  and  arts  were  marshalled  before  him.  Two 
venerable  harpers  played  on  their  national  instruments 
near  the  gate  by  which  he  entered ;  a  number  of  religious 
ill  their  robes,  with  a  huge  cross  at  their  heads,  chanted 
as  they  went ;  forty  young  girls  dressed  in  white,  danced 
the  ancient  Rinka^  scattering  flowers  as  they  danced. 
The  Earl  of  Tyrconnell,  lately  raised  to  a  dukedom,  the 
judges,  the  mayor  and  corporation,  completed  the  pro- 
cession which  marched  over  newly  sanded  streets  beneath 
arches  of  evergreens,  and  windows  hung  with  'tapestry 
and  cloth  of  Arras.'  But,  of  all  the  incidents  of  that 
striking  ceremonial,  nothing  more  powerfully  impressed 
the  popular  imagination  than  the  green  flag  floating  from 
the  main  tower  of  the  castle,  bearing  the  significant  in- 
scription :  '  Now  or  never  — noiv  and  for  ever,''  " 

So  far  well ;  but  when  he  came  to  look  into  the  im- 
portant matter  .of  material  for  war,  a  woful  state  of  things 
confronted  James.  As  we  liave  alreadj^  seen,  for  forty 
years  past,  in  pursuance  of  acts  of  parliament  rigorously 
enforced,  no  Catholic  or  native  Irishman  had  been  al- 
lowed to  learn  a  trade,  to  inhabit  w^alled  towns,  or  to 
possess  arms.  As  a  consequence,  when  the  Protestants, 
whom  alone  for  nearly  half  a  century  the  law  allowed  to 
learn  to  make,  repair,  or  use  firearms,  fled  to  the  north, 
there  was  in  all  the  island  scarcely  a  gunsmith  or  ar- 
mourer on  whom  the  king  could  rely.  Such  Protestant 
artisans  as  remained,  when  obliged  to  set  about  rejxiir- 
ing  guns  or  forging  spears,  threw  every  possible  obstacle 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


419 


in  the  way,  or  executed  the  duty  m  such  a  manner  as  to 
leave  the  weapon  next  to  useless  in  the  hour  of  action; 
while  night  and  day  the  fires  blazed  and  the  anvils  rang 
in  the  preparation  of  the  best  arms  for  the  Williamites." 
The  want  of  cannon  was  most  keenly  felt  on  the  king's 
side.  At  the  time  of  the  so-called  siege  of  Derry  (pro- 
gressing when  James  arrived),  ^' there  was  not  a  single 
battering  cannon  fit  for  use  in  Ireland ;  and  there  were 
only  twelve  field  pieces."  As  a  consequence,  there  was, 
as  there  could  have  been,  no  real  siege  of  Derry.  The 
place  was  blockaded  more  or  less  loosely  for  some  months 
—  closely  towards  the  end.  The  inhabitants  bore  the 
privations  of  the  blockade  with  great  endurance  and 
heroism ;  though  certainly  not  greater  than  that  exhibited 
by  the  besieged  in  severer  blockades  elsewhere  during  the 
war.i  It  were  pitiful  and  unworthy  to  deny  to  the  brave 
rebels  of  Derry  all  that  such  heroic  perseverance  as  theirs 
deserves.  Such  qualities  as  they  displayed  —  such  suffer- 
ings cheerfully  borne  for  a  cause  they  judged  just  and 
holy  —  deserve  honour  and  acclaim  wherever  found.  But, 
after  all,  as  I  have  pointed  out,  it  was  a  blockade,  not  a 
siege,  they  endured ;  and  their  courage  was  put  to  no 
such  test  as  that  which  tried  the  citizens  of  Limerick  two 
or  three  years  subsequently. 

"Meanwhile  a  splendidly  appointed  Williamite  army 
had  been  collected  at  Chester.  It  was  commanded  by  the 
veteran  Duke  Schomberg,  and  amounted  to  ten  thousand 

1  Notably,  for  instance,  Fort  Charlemont,  held  for  the  king  by  the  gal- 
lant O'Regan  with  eight  hundred  men;  besieged  by  Schomberg  at  the  head 
of  more  than  as  many  thousands,  with  a  splendid  artillery  train.  The  gar- 
rison, w^e  are  told,  were  reduced  by  hunger  to  the  last  extremity,  and  at 
length  offered  to  surrend.er  if  allowed  to  march  out  with  all  the  honours  of 
war.  Schomberg  complied,  and  then,  says  a  chronicler,  "  eight  hundred 
men,  with  a  large  number  of  women  and  children,  came  forth,  eagerly 
gnawing  pieces  of  dry  hides  with  the  hair  on;  a  R^^iall  portion  of  filthy  meal 
and  a  few  i^ounds  of  tainted  beef  being  the  only  provisions  remaining  in 
the  fort." 


420 


THE  STORY  OF  IB  ELAN  I). 


men.  They  landed  at  Bangor,  county  Down,  13th  August, 
1689,  and  on  the  17th  took  possession  of  Belfast."  Little 
was  accomplished  on  either  side  up  to  the  summer  follow- 
ing, when  the  new^s  that  William  himself  had  resolved  to 
take  the  field  in  Ireland,  flung  the  Ulster  rebels  into  a 
state  of  enthusiastic  rejoicing,  and  filled  the  royalists  with 
concern.  All  felt  now  that  the  crisis  was  at  hand.  On 
the  14th  June  William  landed  at  Carrickfergus,  sur- 
rounded by  a  throng  of  veteran  generals  of  continental 
fame,  princes  and  peers,  English  and  foreign.  "  At  Bel- 
fast, his  first  headquarters,  he  ascertained  the  forces  at 
his  disposal  to  be  upwards  of  forty  thousand  men,  'a 
strange  medley  of  all  nations '  —  Scandinavians,  Swiss, 
Dutch,  Prussians,  Huguenot  -  French,  English,  Scotch, 
'Scotch-Irish,'  and  Anglo-Irish."  "On  the  16th  June, 
James,  informed  of  William's  arrival,  marched  northward 
at  the  head  of  twenty  thousand  men,  French  and  Irish, 
to  meet  him.  On  the  22d  James  was  at  Dundalk,  and 
William  at  Newry.  As  the  latter  advanced,  the  Jacobites 
retired,  and  finally  chose  their  ground  at  the  Boyne,  re- 
solved to  hazard  a  battle  (even  against  such  odds)  for  the 
preservation  of  Dublin  and  the  safety  of  the  province  of 
Leinster."  ^ 

No  military  opinion  has  ever  been  uttered  of  that  reso- 
lution, save  that  it  never  should  have  been  taken.  The 
wonder  is  not  that  William  forced  the  Boyne ;  all  the 
marvel  and  the  madness  was  that  such  an  army  as  James's 
(especially,  when  commanded  by  such  a  man)  ever  at- 
tempted to  defend  it.  Not  merely  had  William  nearly 
50,000  men  against  James's  23,000;  but  whereas  the  for- 
mer force,  all  save  a  few  thousand  of  the  Ulster  levies  (and 
these,  skilful  and  experienced  sharp-shooters),  were  veteran 
troops,  horse  and  foot,  splendidly  equipped,  and  supported 


1  M'Gee. 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


421 


by  the  finest  park  of  artillery  perhaps  ever  seen  in  Ire- 
land ;  the  latter  army,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  thou- 
sand French,  were  nearly  all  raw  recruits  hastily  collected 
within  a  few  months  past  from  a  population  unacquainted 
with  the  use  of  firearms,  and  who  had,  of  course,  never 
been  under  fire  in  the  field,  and  now  had  of  artillery  but 
six  field  pieces  to  support  them.  But  even  if  this  disparity 
had  never  existed,  the  contrast  between  the  commanders 
would  in  itself  have  made  all  the  difference  possible.  Wil- 
liam was  an  experienced  military  tactician,  brave,  cool, 
prescient,  firm,  and  resolute.  James,  as  duke  of  York, 
had  distinguished  himself  bravely  and  honourably  on  land 
and  sea,  so  that  the  charges  of  absolute  cowardice  often 
urged  against  him  can  scarcely  be  just.  But  his  whole 
conduct  of  affairs  in  this  Irish  campaign  w^as  simply  mis- 
erable. Weak,  vacillating,  capricious,  selfish,  it  is  no 
wonder  one  of  the  French  officers,  stung  to  madness  by  his 
inexplicable  pusillanimity  and  disgraceful  bungling,  should 
have  exclaimed  aloud  to  him:  ''Sire,  if  you  had  a  hundred 
kingdoms,  you  would  lose  them  all."  A  like  sentiment 
found  utterance  in  the  memorable  words  of  an  Irish  officer 
when  brought  a  prisoner  after  the  battle  into  the  presence 
of  the  Williamite  council  of  war  :  "  Exchange  commanders 
with  us,  gentlemen,  and  even  with  all  the  other  odds  against 
us,  we  'II  fight  the  battle  over  again^ 

But  now  the  die  was  cast.  The  resolve,  on  James's  part 
most  falteringly  taken,i  was  fixed  at  last.     Uncle  and 


1  Even  when  the  whole  of  such  arrangements  and  dispositions  for  battle 
as  he  (after  innumerable  vacillations)  had  ordered,  had  been  made,  James, 
at  the  last  moment,  on  the  very  eve  of  battle,  once  again  capriciously 
changed  his  mind,  said  he  would  fall  back  to  Dublin,  and  actually  sent  off 
thither  on  the  moment  the  baggage,  together  with  six  of  the  twelve  cannon 
which  constituted  his  entire  artillery,  and  some  portion  of  his  troops  ! 
Then,  again,  after  these  had  gone  off  beyond  recall  he  as  capriciously 
changed  his  mind  once  more,  and  resolved  to  await  battle  then  and  there 
at  the  Boyne  ! 


422 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


nephew,  sovereign  and  invader,  were  to  put  their  quarrel 
to  the  issue  of  a  battle  on  the  morrow. 


CHAPTER  LXIV. 

"BEFORE  THE  BATTLE." 

ARLY  on  the  morning  of  the  30th  June,  1690, 
William's  army  approached  the  Boyne  in  three 
divisions.  "  Such  was  his  impatience  to  behold 
the  enemy  he  was  to  fight,  and  the  ground  they 
had  taken  up,  that  by  the  time  the  advanced  guard  was 
within  view  of  the  Jacobite  camp,  he  was  in  front  of  them, 
having  ridden  forward  from  the  head  of  his  own  division. 
Then  it  was  that  he  beheld  a  sight  which,  yet  unstirred  by 
soldier  shout  or  cannon  shot,  unstained  by  blood  or  death, 
might  well  gladden  the  heart  of  him  who  gazed,  and  warm 
with  its  glorious  beauties  even  a  colder  nature  than  his ! 
He  stood  upon  a  height,  and  beheld  beneath  him  and 
beyond  him,  with  the  clearness  of  a  map  and  the  gorgeous 
beauty  of  a  dream,  a  view  as  beautiful  as  the  eye  can  scan. 
Doubly  beautiful  it  was  then ;  because  the  colours  of  a 
golden  harvest  were  blended  with  green  fields  and  greener 
trees,  and  a  sweet  river  flowing  calmly  on  in  winding 
beauty  through  a  valley  whose  banks  rose  gently  from  its 
waters,  until  in  lofty  hills  they  touched  the  opposite  hori- 
zon, bending  and  undulating  into  forms  of  beauty.^  "To 
the  south-east,  the  steeples  and  castle  of  Drogheda,  from 
which  floated  the  flags  of  James  and  Louis,  appeared  in 


1  Williamite  and  Jacobite  Wars  in  Ireland,  by  Dr.  Cane. 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


423 


the  mid-distance ;  whilst  seaward  might  be  seen  the  splen- 
did fleet  which  attended  the  motions  of  the  Williamite 
army.  But  of  more  interest  to  the  phlegmatic  but  expe- 
rienced commander,  whose  eagle  eye  now  wandered  over 
the  enchanting  panorama,  were  the  lines  of  white  tents, 
the  waving  banners,  and  moving  bodies  of  troops,  which, 
to  the  south-west,  between  the  river  and  Donore  Hill,  indi- 
cated the  position  of  James's  camp."  ^ 

Having  viewed  the  ground  carefully,  William  selected 
the  Oldbridge  fords  for  the  principal  attack,  and  fixed 
upon  sites  for  batteries  to  command  the  opposite  or 
Jacobite  bank.  He  then  rode  a  short  way  up  the  river, 
and  alighted  to  take  some  refreshment.  On  his  return  he 
was  fired  upon  by  some  field  pieces  at  the  other  side  of  the 
river,  the  first  shot  striking  to  the  earth  one  of  the  group 
beside  the  prince.  A  second  shot  followed ;  the  ball  struck 
the  river  bank,  glanced  upwards,  and  wounded  William 
slightly.  He  sank  upon  his  horse's  neck,  and  a  shout  of 
exultation  burst  from  the  Irish  camp,  where  it  was  believed 
he  was  killed.  He  was  not  much  hurt,  however,  and  rode 
amongst  his  own  lines  to  assure  his  troops  of  his  safety ; 
and  shouts  of  triumph  and  defiance  from  the  Williamite 
ranks  soon  apprised  the  Irish  of  their  error. 

That  night  —  that  anxious  night !  —  was  devoted  by  Wil- 
liam to  the  most  careful  planning  and  arrangement  for  the 
morrow's  strife.  But  ere  we  notice  these  plans  or  ap- 
proach that  struggle,  it  may  be  well  to  describe  for  young 
readers  with  all  possible  simplicity  the  battle-field  of  the 
Boyne,  and  the  nature  of  the  military  operations  of  which 
it  was  the  scene. 

The  Boyne  enters  the  Irish  Sea  a  mile  or  more  to  the  east 
of  Drogheda,  but  for  a  mile  or  two  above  or  to  the  west 
of  that  town,  the  sea-tides  reach  and  rise  and  fall  in  the 


1  TheHarp  for  March,  1859;  The  "  Battleof  the  Boyne,"  by  M.  J,  M'Cann. 


424 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


river.  Two  miles  and  a  half  up  the  river  from  Drogheda, 
on  the  southern  bank,  is  the  little  village  of  Oldbridge. 
About  five  miles  in  a  direct  line  due  west  of  Oldbridge 
(but  considerably  more  by  the  curve  of  the  river,  which 
between  these  points  bends  deeply  southward),  stands 
the  town  of  Slane  on  the  northern  bank.  The  ground 
rises  rather  rapidly  from  the  river  at  Oldbridge,  sloping 
backwards,  or  southwards,  about  a  mile,  to  the  Hill  of 
Donore,  on  the  crest  of  which  stand  a  little  ruined  church 
(it  was  a  ruin  even  in  1690)  and  a  grave-yard ;  three 
miles  and  a  half  further  southward  than  Donore,  on  the 
road  to  Dublin  from  Oldbridge,  stands  Duleek. 

James's  camp  was  pitched  on  the  northern  slopes  of 
Donore,  looking  down  upon  the  river  at  Oldbridge.  James 
himself  slept  and  had  his  headquarters  in  the  little  ruined 
church  already  mentioned. 

Directly  opposite  to  Oldbridge,  on  the  northern  side  of 
the  river,  the  ground,  as  on  the  south  side,  rises  rather 
abruptly,  sloping  backward,  forming  a  hill  called  Tullyal- 
len.  This  hill  is  intersected  by  a  ravine  north  and  south, 
leading  down  to  the  river,  its  mouth  on  the  northern  brink 
being  directly  opposite  to  Oldbridge.  The  ravine  is  now 
called  King  William's  Glen.  On  and  behind  TuUyallen 
Hill,  William's  camp  was  pitched,  looking  southwards,  to- 
wards, but  not  altogether  in  sight  of  James's,  on  the  other 
side  of  the  river. 

At  this  time  of  the  year,  July,  the  Boyne  was  fordable 
at  several  places  up  the  river  towards  Slane.  The  easiest 
fords,  however,  were  at  Oldbridge,  where,  when  the  sea- 
tide  was  at  lowest  ebb,  the  water  was  not  three  feet  deep. 

To  force  these  fords,  or  some  of  them,  was  William's 
task.    To  defend  them  was  James's  endeavour. 

The  main  difficulty  in  crossing  a  ford  in  the  face  of  an 
opposing  army,  is  that  the  enemy  almost  invariably  has 
batteries  to  play  on  the  fords  with  shot  and  shell,  and 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


425 


troops  ready  at  hand  to  charge  the  crossing  party  the  in- 
stant they  attempt  to  ^'form"  on  reaching  the  bank,  if 
they  succeed  in  reaching  it.  If  the  defending  party  have 
not  batteries  to  perform  this  service,  and  if  the  assailants 
have  batteries  to  cover "  the  passage  of  their  fording 
parties  by  a  strong  cannonade,  ix.  to  prevent  (by  shot 
and  shell  fired  over  their  heads  at  the  bank  they  rush  for) 
the  formation  there  of  any  troops  to  charge  them  on  reach- 
ing the  shore,  the  ford  is,  as  a  general  rule,  sure  to  be 
forced. 

James  had  not  a  single  cannon  or  howitzer  at  the  fords. 
From  fifty  splendid  field  pieces  and  mortars  William 
rained  shot  and  shell  on  the  Jacobite  bank. 

William's  plan  of  attack  was  to  outflank  James's  left 
by  sending  a  strong  force  up  the  river  towards  Slane, 
where  they  were  to  cross  and  attack  the  Jacobite  flank 
and  rear;  while  he,  with  the  full  strength  of  his  main 
army  (the  centre  under  Schomberg  senior,  the  extreme 
left  under  himself),  would,  under  cover  of  a  furious  can- 
nonade, force  all  the  fords  at  and  below  Oldbridge. 

It  was  onlj'  at  the  last  moment  that  James  was  brought 
to  perceive  the  deadly  danger  of  being  flanked  from  Slane, 
and  he  then  detailed  merely  a  force  of  five  hundred  dra- 
goons under  the  gallant  Sir  Neal  O'Neill  to  defend  the 
extreme  left  there.  His  attention  until  the  mid-hour  of 
battle  next  day,  was  mainly  given  to  the  (Oldbridge) 
fords  in  his  front,  and  his  sole  reliance  for  their  defence 
was  on  some  poor  breastworks  and  farm-buildings  to  shel- 
ter musketry-men ;  trusting  for  the  rest  to  hand-to-hand 
encounters  when  the  enemj'  should  have  come  across !  In 
fact,  he  had  no  other  reliance,  since  he  was  without  artil- 
lery to  defend  the  fords. 

All  else  being  settled,  ere  the  anxious  council-holders 
on  each  side  sought  their  couches,  the  pass-word  for  the 
morning  and  the  distinguishing  badges  were  announced. 


426 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


The  Jacobite  soldiers  wore  white  cockades.  William  chose 
green  for  Ms  colours.  Every  man  on  his  side  was  ordered 
to  wear  a  green  bough  or  sprig  in  his  hat,  and  the  word 
was  to  be  "  Westminster." 


CHAPTER  LXV. 

THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  BOYNE. 

^^^^UESDAY  the  1st  July,  1690,  dawned  cloudlessly 
on  those  embattled  hosts,  and  as  the  early  sun- 
light streamed  out  from  over  the  eastern  hills, 
the  stillness  of  that  summer  morning  was  broken 
by  the  Williamite  drums  and  bugles  sounding  the  gene- 
rale.  In  accordance  with  the  plan  of  battle  arranged  the 
previous  night,  the  first  move  on  William's  side  was  the 
march  of  ten  thousand  men  (the  Scotch  foot-guards  under 
Lieutenant-General  Douglas,  and  the  Danish  horse  under 
Meinhart  Schomberg),  with  five  pieces  of  artillery,  for 
the  bridge  of  Slane,  where,  and  at  the  fords  between  it 
and  Ross-na-ree  (two  miles  nearer  to  Oldbridge),  they 
were  to  cross  the  river,  and  turn  the  left  flank  of  James's 
army.  The  infantry  portion  of  this  force  crossing  at 
Slane,  while  tlie  horse  were  getting  over  at  Ross-na-ree, 
came  upon  Sir  Neal  O'Neill  and  his  five  hundred  dragoons 
on  the  extreme  left  of  the  Jacobite  position.  For  fully 
an  hour  did  the  gallant  O'Neill  hold  this  force  in  check, 
he  himself  falling  mortally  wounded  in  the  thick  of  the 
fight.  But  soon,  the  Danish  horse  crossing  at  Ross-na-ree, 
the  full  force  of  ten  thousand  men  united  and  advanced 
upon  the  Jacobite  flank,  endeavouring  to  get  between  the 
royalist  army  and  Duleek.   Just  at  this  moment,  however, 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


427 


there  arrived  a  force  of  French  and  Swiss  infantry,  and 
some  Irish  horse  and  foot,  with  six  pieces  of  cannon  under 
Lauzun,  sent  up  hurriedly  from  Oldbridge  by  James,  who 
now  began  to  think  all  the  fight  would  be  on  his  left. 
Lauzun  so  skilfully  posted  his  checking  force  on  the 
slope  of  a  hill  with  a  marsh  in  front,  that  Douglas  and 
Schomberg,  notwithstanding  their  enormous  numerical 
superiority,  halted  and  did  not  venture  on  an  attack  until 
they  had  sent  for  and  obtained  an  additional  supply  of 
troops.  Then  only  did  their  infantry  advance,  while  the 
cavalry,  amounting  to  twenty-four  squadrons,  proceeded 
round  the  bog  and  extended  on  towards  Duleek,  com- 
pletely overlapping  or  flanking  the  Jacobite  left  wing. 

Meanwhile,  about  ten  o'clock  in  the  forenoon,  Schom- 
berg the  elder  (in  charge  of  the  Williamite  centre),  find- 
ing that  his  son  and  Douglas  had  made  good  their  way 
across  on  the  extreme  right,  and  had  the  Jacobites  well 
engaged  there,  gave  the  word  for  the  passage  of  Oldbridge 
fords.  Tyrconneirs  regiment  of  foot-guards,  with  other 
Irish  foot  (only  a  few  of  them  being  armed  with  muskets), 
occupied  the  ruined  breastwork  fences  and  farm  buildings . 
on  the  opposite  side ;  having  some  cavalry  drawn  up  be- 
hind the  low  hills  close  by  to  support  them.  But  the 
Williamites  had  a  way  for  emptying  these  breastworks 
and  clearing  the  bank  for  their  fording  parties.  Fifty 
pieces  of  cannon  that  had  during  the  morning  almost 
completely  battered  down  the  temporary  defences  on  the 
southern  bank,  now  opened  simultaneouslj^  shaking  the 
hills  with  their  thunders,  and  sweeping  the  whole  of 
the  Irish  position  with  their  iron  storm;  while  the  bombs 
from  William's  mortar  batteries  searched  every  part  of 
the  field.  Under  cover  of  this  tremendous  fire,  to  which 
the  Irish  had  not  even  a  single  field-piece  to  reply,^  the 


1  The  six  retained  by  James  had  been  forwarded  to  Lauzun  on  the  ex- 
treme left. 


428 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


van  of  the  splendidly-appointed  Williamite  infantry  issued 
from  King  William's  Glen,  and  plunged  into  the  stream. 
"  Count  Solme's  Dutch  Blue  Guards,  two  thousand  strong, 
reputed  the  best  infantry  regiment  in  the  world,  led  the 
way  at  the  principal  ford  opposite  Oldbridge,  followed  by 
the  Brandenburghers.  Close  on  their  left  were  the  Lon- 
donderries  and  Enniskillen  foot ;  below  whom  entered  a 
long  column  of  French  Huguenots,  under  the  veteran 
Calimotte.  A  little  below  the  Huguenots  were  the  main 
body  of  the  English,  under  Sir  John  Hanmer  and  Count 
Nassau ;  and  still  lower  down,  the  Danes,  under  Colonel 
Cutts.  In  all  about  ten  thousand  of  the  flower  of  the 
infantry  of  Europe,^  struggling  through  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
of  the  river,  and  almost  hidden  beneath  flashing  arms  and 
green  boughs."^  As  they  neared  the  southern  bank,  the 
roar  of  cannon  ceased  —  a  breathless  pause  of  suspense 
ensued.  Then  a  wild  cheer  wrung  from  the  Irish  lines ; 
and  such  of  the  troops  as  had  guns  opened  fire.  An 
utterly  ineffective  volley  it  was ;  so  ill-directed,  ■  that 
the  Williamite  accounts  say  it  did  not  kill  a  man ;  and 
then  the  veterans  of  a  hundred  continental  battle-fields 
knew  they  had  only  raw  Irish  peasant  levies  on  the  bank 
before  them.  There  being  no  artillery  (as  already  fre- 
quently noted)  to  play  on  the  fording  parties  while 
crossing,  and  there  being  so  little  water  in  the  river,  the 
passage  of  the  fords  was  easily  effected. 

The  Dutch  guards  were  the  first  to  the  bank,  where 
they  instantly  formed.  Here  they  were  charged  by  the 
Irish  foot ;  but  before  the  withering  fire  of  the  cool  and 

1  Battle  of  the  Bo7jne,  by  M.  J.  M*Cann.  No  one  desiring  to  trace  closely, 
and  fully  understand  the  events  of  this  memorable  battle,  should  omit  to 
read  <Sir  William)  Wilde's  beautiful  and  valuable  work  the  Boyne  and 
Blackioater.  I  follow^  as  closely  as  possible  the  briefer  accounts  of  the 
battle  by  Mr.  IM'Cann  iu  the  Harp,  and  by  Dr.  Cane  in  his  WiJUamite  Wars, 
with  occasional  corrections  from  MacarUc  Excidhun,  from  Sir  William 
Wilde's  work,  and  other  authorities. 


THE  STORY  OF  IBELANB. 


429 


skilful  foreign  veterans,  these  raw  levies  were  cut  up  in- 
stantly, and  driven  flying  behind  the  fences.  The  truth 
became  plain  after  two  or  three  endeavours  to  bring  them 
to  the  charge,  that  they  were  not  fit  for  such  work.  Now, 
however,  was  the  time  for  Hamilton,  at  tlie  head  of  the 
only  well-disciplined  Irish  force  on  the  field  —  the  horse 
—  to  show  what  his  men  could  do.  The  hedges,  which 
had  not  been  levelled  for  the  purpose,  did  not  prevent 
their  charge.  The  ground  literally  trembled  beneath  the 
onset  of  this  splendid  force.  Irresistible  as  an  avalanche, 
they  struck  the  third  battalion  of  Dutch  Blues  while  yet 
in  the  stream,  and  hurled  them  back.  The  Branden- 
burghers  turned  and  fled.  The  Huguenots,  who  were  not 
so  quick  in  escape,  were  broken  through,  and  their  com- 
mander Calimotte  cut  down. 

Schomberg  had  remained  on  the  northern  bank  with  a 
chosen  body  of  foot  as  a  reserve.  He  saw  with  excite- 
ment the  sudden  crash  of  the  Irish  horse,  and  its  effects ; 
and  was  prepared  to  push  forward  the  reserve,  when  word 
reached  him  that  his  old  friend  Calimotte  had  fallen ! 
Without  waiting  for  helmet  or  cuirass  he  dashed  forward,' 
his  white  hair  floating  in  the  wind.  In  the  river  he  met 
and  strove  to  rally  the  flying  Huguenots.  "  Come  on, 
come  on,  messieurs ;  behold  your  persecutors,"  cried  the 
old  warrior,  alluding  to  the  French  infantry  on  the  other 
side.  They  were  the  last  words  he  ever  spoke.  Tyr- 
connell's  Irish  horse-guards,  returning  from  one  of  their 
charges,  again  broke  clear  through  and  through  the 
Huguenots,  cleaving  Schomberg's  head  with  two  fearful 
sabre  v/ounds,  and  lodging  a  bullet  in  his  neck.  When 
the  wave  of  battle  had  passed,  the  lifeless  body  of  the  old 
general  lay  amongst  the  human  debris  that  marked  its 
track.  He  had  quickly  followed,  not  only  across  the 
Boyne  but  to  another  world,  his  brave  companion  in  arms 
whose  fall  he  had  sought  to  avenge. 


430 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


All  this  time  William,  at  the  head  of  some  five  thou- 
sand of  the  flower  of  his  cavalry,  lay  behind  the  slopes  of 
TuUyallen,  close  by  the  lowest  ford  on  the  extreme  left 
of  his  army,  waiting  anxiously  for  news  of  Schomberg's 
passage  at  Oldbridge.  But  now  learning  that  his  centre 
had  been  repulsed,  he  disengaged  his  wounded  arm  from 
its  sling,  and  calling  aloud  to  his  troops  to  follow  him, 
plunged  boldly  into  the  stream.  The  water  was  deepest 
at  this  ford,  for  it  was  nearest  to  the  sea,  and  the  tide, 
which  was  out  at  the  hour  fixed  for  crossing  in  the  morn- 
ing, was  now  beginning  to  rise.  William  and  his  five 
thousand  cavalry  reached  the  south  bank  with  difficulty. 
Marshalling  his  force  on  the  shore  with  marvellous  celer- 
ity, he  did  not  wait  to  be  charged,  but  rushed  furiously 
forward  upon  the  Irish  right  flank.  The  Irish  command 
at  this  point  was  held  by  the  young  Duke  of  Berwick 
with  some  squadrons  of  Irish  horse,  some  French  infantry, 
and  Irish  pikemen.  The  Irish  were  just  starting  to  charge 
the  Williamites  at  the  back,  when  the  latter,  as  already 
noted,  dashed  forward  to  anticipate  such  a  movement  by 
a  charge  upon  them,  so  that  both  bodies  of  horse  were 
simultaneously  under  way,  filled  with  all  the  vehemence 
and  fury  which  could  be  imparted  by  consciousness  of  the 
issues  depending  on  the  collision  now  at  hand.  As  they 
neared  each  other  the  excitement  became  chokhig,  and 
above  the  thunder  of  the  horses'  feet  on  the  sward  could 
be  heard  bursting  from  a  hundred  hearts,  the  vehement 
passionate  shouts  of  every  troop-officer,  Close  —  close 
up ;  for  God's  sake,  closer !  closer  !  "  On  they  came, 
careering  like  the  whirlwind  —  and  then!  —  What  a  crash! 
Like  a  thunder-bolt  the  Irish  horse  broke  clear  through 
the  Williamites.  Those  who  watched  from  the  hill  above, 
say  that  when  both  those  furious  billows  met,  there  was 
barely  a  second  of  time  (a  3'ear  of  agonised  suspense  it 
seemed  at  the  moment  to  some  of  the  lookers-on)  during 


TBE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


431 


which  the  wild  surges  rendered  it  uncertain  which  one 
was  to  bear  down  the  other.  But  in  one  instant  the 
gazers  beheld  the  white  plumed  form  of  young  Berwick 
at  the  head  of  the  Irish  cavaby  far  into  the  middle  of  the 
Williamite  mass;  and  soon,  with  a  shout  —  a  roar  that 
rose  over  all  the  din  of  battle  —  a  frantic  peal  of  exulta- 
tion and  vengeance  —  the  Irish  absolutely  swept  the 
Dutch  and  Enniskillen  cavalry  down  the  slopes  upon  the 
river,  leaving  in  their  track  only  a  broken  crowd  of  un- 
horsed or  ridden-down  foes,  whom  the  Irish  pikemen 
finished. 

But  now  the  heavy  firing  from  Oldbridge  announced 
that  the  Williamite  centre  was  crossing  once  more,  and 
soon  it  became  clear  that  even  though  the  Irish  repulsed 
man  for  man,  there  still  were  enough  of  their  foes  to  make 
a  lodgment  on  the  bank  too  powerful  to  be  resisted. 
Bodies  of  his  troops  streaming  down  to  him  from  the 
centre,  gladly  proclaimed  to  William  that  they  were 
across  again  th-ere.  Rallying  his  left  wing  with  these  aids 
he  advanced  once  more.  He  now  had  infantry  to  check 
the  ever-dreaded  charges  of  the  Irish  horse,  and  so  press- 
ing steadily  onward,  he  drove  the  Irish  back  along  the 
lane  leading  from  the  river  to  Sheephouse,  a  small  hamlet 
half  way  between  Donore  and  the  Boyne.  Here  the  Irish 
were  evidently  prepared  to  make  a  stand.  William,  who 
throughout  this  battle  exhibited  a  bravery  —  a  cool,  cour- 
ageous recklessness  of  personal  peril,  which  no  general 
ever  surpassed,  now  led  in  person  a  charge  by  all  his  left 
wing  forces.  But  he  found  himself  flanked  by  the  Irish 
foot  posted  in  the  hedges  and  cabins,  and  confronted  by 
the  invincible  cavalry.  He  turned  a  moment  from  the  head 
of  the  Enniskillens,  and  rode  to  the  rear  to  hurry  up  the 
Dutch.  The  Enniskillens,  seeing  Berwick  in  front  about 
to  charge,  allege  that  they  thought  the  king's  movement 
was  to  be  followed  by  them,  so  they  turned,  and  William 


432  THi:  STonr  of  iriIlani). 

coming  up  with  the  Dutch,  met  them  flying  pell  mell.  lie 
now  handed  over  the  Dutch  to  Ginckel,  and  took  himself 
the  unsteady  Ulstermen  in  charge.  He  appealed  entreat- 
ingly  to  them  to  rally  and  stand  by  him,  and  not  to  ruin 
all  by  their  weakness  at  such  a  critical  moment.  By  this 
time  the  Huguenot  horse  also  came  up,  and  the  whole 
combining,  William  a  third  time  advanced.  The  Wil- 
liamite  accounts  describe  to  us  the  conflict  that  now  en- 
sued at  this  point  as  one  of  the  most  desperate  cavalry 
combats  of  the  whole  war.  According  to  the  same  au- 
thorities the  Dutch  recoiled,  and  Ginckel  had  to  throw 
himself  in  their  rear  to  prevent  a  disordered  flight.^  Wil- 
liam, dauntless  and  daring,  was  in  the  thickest  of  the 
fight,  cheering,  exhorting,  leading  his  men.  The  gallant 
Berwick  and  Sheldon,  on  the  other  hand,  now  assisted  by 
some  additional  Irish  hurried  up  from  the  centre,  pressed 
their  foes  with  resistless  energy.  Brave  and  highly  dis- 
ciplined those  foes  were  undoubtedly ;  nevertheless,  once 
more  down  the  lane  went  the  Williamite  horse  and  foot, 
with  the  Irish  cavalry  in  full  pursuit. 

This  time,  "  like  Rupert  at  the  battle  of  Edge  Hill,"  the 
Irish  '^pursued  too  far."  .While  all  that  has  been  de- 
scribed so  far  was  occurring  on  the  Jacobite  right,  at  the 
centre  (Oldbridge),  overwhelming  masses  of  William's 
cavalry  and  infantry  had,  notwithstanding  the  best  efforts 
of  the  French  and  Irish  foot,  forced  all  the  fords  and  mas- 
tered everything  at  that  point.  In  detached  masses  they 
were  now  penetrating  all  the  approaches  to  Donore,  in 
the  direction  of  Sheephouse.  driving  the  Jacobites  before 
them.  While  the  Irish  cavalry  on  the  right,  as  above 
described,  were  in  pursuit  of  the  Williamites,  the  lane 
leading  to  Sheephouse  was  left  unoccupied.  This  being- 
observed  by  two  regiments  of  Williamite  dragoons,  they 


1  Story. 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


433 


quickly  dismounted  and  lined  the  hedges  of  the  lane,  at 
the  same  time  sending  word  to  Ginckel  to  take  advantage 
of  what  they  were  about  to  do.  The  Irish  cavalry  after 
their  charge  now  returned  slowly  through  the  lane  to 
resume  their  position.  Suddenly  and  to  their  utter  con- 
sternation they  found  themselves  assailed  by  a  close  and 
deadly  fusillade  from  the  ambuscade  around  them,  so 
close,  so  deadly,  the  guns  almost  touched  each  horseman  ; 
and  there  was  no  room  for  evolution  in  the  narrow  place. 
While  they  were  thus  disordered,  whole  masses  of  troops 
were  flung  upon  them ;  Ginckel  in  their  rear,  their  lately 
routed  but  now  rallied  foes  on  the  right,  and  all  combin- 
ing, pressed  the  overborne  but  not  outbraved  heroes  up 
the  lane  upon  Donore. 

Here  the  Irish  turned  doggedly  for  a  resolute  stand ; 
and  William  saw  that  though  forced  indeed  from  the 
river,  they  considered  themselves  far  from  being  beaten 
yet.  After  a  few  ineffectual  charges,  he  suspended  the 
attack,  in  order  to  re-form  his  ranks  for  a  grand  assault  in 
full  force. 

It  was  at  this  moment  —  while  his  devoted  little  army, 
still  all  undaunted,  were  nerving  themselves  for  the  crisis 
of  their  fate  —  that  James,  yielding  readily  to  the  advice 
of  Tyrconnell  and  Lauzun  (which  quite  accorded  with  his 
own  anxiety),  fled  precipitately  for  Dublin;  taking  with 
him  as  a  guard  for  his  person  the  indignant  and  exas- 
perated Sarsfield  and  his  splendid  cavalry  regiment,  at 
that  moment  so  sorely  needed  on  the  field  I 

Some  Irish  writers,  embittered  against  James  for  this 
flight,  go  so  far  as  to  contend  that  had  he  remained  and 
handled  his  troops  skilfully,  it  was  still  within  possibility 
to  turn  the  fortunes  of  the  day,  and  drive  William  beyond 
the  river.  The  point  is  untenable.  The  Jacobite  left, 
right,  and  centre  had  been  driven  in,  and  the  Williamite 
forces  were  all  now  in  full  conjunction  in  front.    It  was 


434 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


possible  to  hold  William  in  check  ;  to  dispute  with  him 
each  mile  of  ground  to  Dublin;  but  Napoleon  himself 
could  not  (^tvith  only  six  field-]? ieces}  have  beaten  William 
at  the  Boyne. 

It  is  certain,  however,  that  the  Irish  troops  themselves 
were  not  of  this  mind ;  for  when  they  heard  that  Donore 
was  to  be  relinquished,  and  that  they  must  fall  back  on 
Duleek  they  murmured  and  groaned  aloud,  and  passion- 
ately declared  it  was  snatching  from  them  a  certain  vic- 
tory !  ^  Nevertheless,  to  fall  back  was  now  essential  to 
their  safety ;  for  already  bodies  of  Williamite  troops  were 
streaming  away  on  the  Jacobite  left  towards  Duleek,  de- 
signing to  get  in  the  Irish  rear.  To  meet  this  movement, 
the  Irish  left  was  swung  round  accordingly,  and  pushed 
on  also,  mile  for  mile,  with  the  flanking  Williamites  ;  un- 
til eventually  the  struggle  in  front  was  virtually  aban- 
doned by  both  parties,  and  the  competition  was  all  as  to 
the  manoeuvres  and  counter-manoeuvres  on  the  Duleek 
road ;  the  Irish  falling  back,  yet  facing  the  enemy,  and 
making  their  retreat  the  retiring  movement  of  an  over- 
powered army,  by  no  means  the  flight  of  one  routed.  At 
Duleek  they  turned  to  bay,  taking  up  a  strong  position  on 
the  south  of  the  little  stream  which  passes  the  town.  The 
Williamites  came  on,  and  having  looked  at  the  ground 
and  the  disposition  of  the  Jacobite  forces,  deemed  it  well 
to  offer  battle  no  further,  but  to  rest  content,  as  well  they 
might,  with  the  substantial  victory  of  having  forced  the 
Boyne  and  vanquished  the  Stuart  king. 


1  Macarioe  JSxcidium,  page  51. 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


435 


^   CHAPTER  LXVI. 

HOW    JAMES    ABANDONED    THE    STRUGGLE;    BUT  THE 
IRISH  WOULD  NOT  GIVE  UP. 

ITH  all  the  odds  at  which  this  battle  was  fought, 
and  important  as  were  its  ultimate  consequences, 
the  immediate  gain  for  William  was  simply  that 
he  had  crossed  the  Boyne.  He  had  not  a  cap- 
tured gun,  and  scarcely  a  standard  ^  to  show  for  his  vic- 
tory. The  vanquished  had,  as  we  have  seen,  effected  a 
retreat  in  almost  perfect  order,  bringing  off  the  few  guns 
they  possessed  at  the  beginning  of  the  fight.  In  fine,  of 
the  usual  tokens  of  a  victory  —  namely,  captured  guns, 
standards,  baggage,  or  prisoners  —  William's  own  chroni- 
clers confess  he  had  nought  to  show ;  while,  according  to 
the  same  accounts,  his  loss  in  killed  and  wounded  nearly 
equalled  that  of  the  royalists. 

This  was  almost  entirely  owing  to  the  Irish  and  French 
cavalry  regiments.  They  saved  the  army.  They  did 
more  —  their  conduct  on  that  day  surrounded  the  lost 
cause  with  a  halo  of  glory  which  defeat  could  not  dim. 

Could  there  have  been  any  such  ''exchange  of  com- 
manders "  as  the  captured  Irish  officer  challenged  —  had 
the  Irish  a  general  of  real  ability,  of  heart  and  courage, 
zeal  and  determination,  to  command  them,  —  all  that  had 
so  far  been  lost  or  gained  at  the  Boyne  would  have  proved 
of  little  account  indeed.  But  James  seemed  imbecile. 
He  fled  early  in  the  day,  reached  Dublin  before  evening ; 
recommended  that  no  further  struggle  should  be  attempted 
in  Ireland ;  and  advised  his  adherents  to  make  the  best 


1  Story,  the  Williamite  chaplain,  says:  "Only  one  or  two,"  and  com- 
plains of  **  the  incompleteness  of  the  victory." 


436 


TEE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


terms  they  could  for  themselves.  He  had  seen  a  newly 
raised  and  only  half-armed  Irish  foot  regiment,  it  seems, 
torn  by  shot  and  shell,  break  and  fly  in  utter  confusion 
when  charged  by  cavalry ;  and  the  miserable  man  could 
talk  of  nothing  but  of  their  bad  conduct  that  had  lost 
him  the  crown !  While  he,  most  fleet  at  flying,  was  thus 
childishly  scolding  in  Dublin  Castle,  the  devoted  Irish 
were  even  yet  keeping  William's  fifty  thousand  men  at 
baj^  retreating  slowly  and  in  good  order  from  Donore  ! 

At  five  o'clock  next  morning  he  quitted  Dublin  ;  and, 
leaving  two  troops  of  horse  "  to  defend  the  bridge  at  Bray 
as  long  as  they  could,  should  the  enemy  come  up,"  he 
fled  through  Wicklow  to  the  south  of  Ireland.  At  Kin- 
sale  he  hurriedly  embarked  on  board  the  French  squadron, 
and  sailed  for  Brest,  where  he  arrived  on  the  20th  July  ; 
being  himself  the  first  messenger  with  the  news  of  his 
defeat. 

The  Irish  army  on  reaching  Dublin  found  they  were 
without  king  or  captain-general.  They  had  been  aban- 
doned and  advised  to  make  favour  with  the  conqueror. 
This,  however,  was  not  their  mind.  James  mistook  his 
men.  He  might  fly  and  resign  if  he  would ;  but  the  cause 
—  the  country  —  La  Patrie  —  remained.  So  the  Irish 
resolved  not  to  surrender.  They  had  fought  for  James 
at  the  Boyne ;  they  would  now  fight  for  Ireland  on  the 
Shannon. 

"  To  Limerick  !  To  Limerick !  "  became  the  cry.  The 
superior  wisdom  of  the  plan  of  campaign  advised  by 
Sarsfield  from  the  beginning  —  defence  of  the  line  of  the 
Shannon  —  was  now  triumphantly  vindicated.  Freely  sur- 
rendering as  indefensible,  Dublin,  Kilkenny,  Waterford, 
and  Dungannon,  to  Limerick  the  Irish  now  turned  from 
all  directions.  The  chronicles  of  the  time  state  that  the 
soldiers  came  to  that  rallying  point  from  the  most  distant  ^ 
places,  "  in  companies,  in  scores,  in  groups ;  nay,  in  twos 


THE  STOEY  OF  IRELAND. 


437 


and  threes,"  without  any  order  or  command  to  that  effect. 
On  the  contrary,  James  had  directed  them  all  to  surrender, 
and  every  consideration  of  personal  safety  counselled  them 
to  disband  and  seek  their  homes.  But  no  !  They  had  an 
idea  that  on  the  Shannon  Sarsfield  would  yet  make  a  gal- 
lant stand  beneath  the  green  flag ;  and  so  thither  their 
steps  were  bent  I 

All  eyes  now  turned  to  Athlone  and  Limerick.  The 
former  place  was  at  this  time  held  by  an  old  hero,  whose 
name  deserved  to  be  linked  with  that  of  Sarsfield  — 
Colonel  Richard  Grace,  a  confederate  Catholic  royalist  of 
1641,  now  laden  with  years,  but  as  bold  of  heart  and  brave 
of  spirit  as  when  first  he  drew  a  sword  for  Ireland.  To 
reduce  Athlone,  William  detached  from  his  main  army  at 
Dublin,  Lieutenant-General  Douglas  with  twelve  thousand 
men,  a  train  of  twelve  cannon,  and  two  mortars.  The 
town  stood  then,  as  it  stands  now,  partly  on  the  Leinster, 
and  partly  on  the  Connaught  side  of  the  Shannon  River, 
or  rather  of  the  short  and  narrow  neck  of  water,  which  at 
that  point  links  two  of  the  "  loughs  "  or  wide  expanses  of 
the  river,  that  like  a  great  chain  of  lakes  runs  north  and 
south  for  fifty  miles  between  Limerick  and  Lough  Allen. 
That  portion  of  Athlone  on  the  west,  or  Connaught  side 
of  the  river,  was  called  the  Irish  town ;  "  that  on  the 
east  or  Leinster  side,  the  "  English  town."  The  castle  and 
chief  fortifications  lay  on  the  west  side.  The  governor 
deemed  the  English  town  untenable  against  Douglas's 
artillery,  so  he  demolished  that  entire  suburb,  broke  down 
the  bridge,  and  put  all  defences  on  the  western  side  of 
the  river  into  the  best  condition  possible  to  withstand 
assault. 

On  the  17th  July,  1690,  Douglas  arrived  before  Ath- 
lone, and  sent  an  insolent  message  to  the  governor  demand- 
ing immediate  surrender.  Veteran  Grace  drew  a  pistol 
from  his  belt,  and  firing  over  the  head  of  the  affrighted 


438 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


envoy,  answered  to  the  effect  that  "  that  was  his  answer  " 

this  time,  but  something  severer  would  be  his  reply  to  any 
such  message  repeated.  Next  day  Douglas  with  great 
earnestness  planted  his  batteries,  and  for  two  days  follow- 
ing played  on  the  old  castle  walls  with  might  and  main. 
But  he  received  in  return  such  compliments  of  the  same 
kind  from  Colonel  Grace  as  to  make  him  more  than 
dubious  as  to  the  result  of  his  bombardment.  After  a 
week  had  been  thus  spent,  news  full  of  alarm  for  Douglas 
reached  him.  Sarsfield  —  name  of  terror  already  —  was 
said  to  be  coming  up  from  Limerick  to  catch  him  at  Ath- 
lone !  If  old  Grace  would  only  surrender  now  ;  just  to  let 
him,  Douglas,  get  away  in  time,  it  would  be  a  blessed 
relief!  But  lo  I  So  far  from  thinking  about  surrender- 
ing, on  the  24th  the  old  hero  on  the  Connaught  side  hu7ig 
out  the  red  flag}  Douglas,  maddened  at  this,  opened  on 
the  instant  a  furious  cannonade,  but  received  just  as 
furious  a  salute  from  Governor  Grace,  accompanied  more- 
over by  the  most  unkind  shouts  of  derision  and  defiance 
from  the  western  shore.  Douglas  now  gave  up  :  there 
was  nothing  for  it  but  to  run  !  Sarsfield  might  be  upon 
him  if  he  longer  delayed.  So  he  and  his  ten  thousand 
fled  from  Athlone,  revenging  themselves  for  their  dis- 
comfiture there  by  ravaging  the  inhabitants  of  all  the 
country  through  which  they  passed.  Old  Governor  Grace 
made  a  triumphal  circuit  of  Athlone  walls,  amidst  the 
enthusiastic  ovations  of  the  garrison  and  townspeople. 
Athlone  was  saved  —  this  time.  Once  again,  however,  it 
was  to  endure  a  siege  as  memorable,  and  to  make  a  defence 
still  more  glorious,  though  not,  like  this  one,  crowned 
with  victory ! 


1  Which  betokens  resistance  a  Voxitrance;  refusal  of  capitulation  or 
quarter. 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


439 


CHAPTER  LXVII. 

HOW  WILLIAM  SAT  DOWN  BEFOEE  LIMERICK  AND 
BEGAN  THE  SIEGE.  SARSFIELD's  MIDNIGHT  RIDE  — 
THE  FATE  OF  WILLIAM's  SIEGE  TRAIN. 

PON  Limerick  now  all  interest  centred.  On 
the  7th  of  Angust  William  reached  Cahircon- 
lish,  about  seven  miles  south-east  of  the  city, 
where  he  encamped,  his  force  amounting  to 
about  twenty-eight  thousand  men.  On  the  evening  of  the 
8th,  Douglas,  with  the  ten  thousand  runaway  besiegers 
of  Athlone,  joined  him,  raising  his  force  to  thirty-eight 
thousand.  At  this  time  there  were,  on  the  other  hand, 
in  the  city  barely  ten  thousand  infantry ;  about  four 
thousand  cavalry  being  encamped  on  the  Clare  side. 
When  the  courtier  commanders,  Tyrconnell  and  Lauzun, 
had  estimated  William's  forces,  and  viewed  the  defences 
of  the  city,  they  absolutely  scoffed  at  the  idea  of  defend- 
ing it,  and  directed  its  surrender.  Sarsfield  and  the 
Irish  royalists,  however,  boldly  declared  they  would  not 
submit  to  this,  and  said  they  would  themselves  defend  the 
city.  In  this  they  were  thoroughly  and  heartily  seconded 
and  supported  by  the  gallant  Berwick.  Lauzun  again 
inspected  the  walls,  gates,  bastions,  etc.,  and  as  his  final 
opinion  declared  that  the  place  "  could  be  taken  tvith 
roasted  apples,''  Hereupon  Tyrconnell,  Lauzun,  and  all 
the  French  and  Swiss  departed  for  Galway,  taking  with 
them  everything  they  could  control  of  stores,  arms.,  and 
ammunition ! 

This  looked  like  desertion  and  betrayal  indeed.  The 
taking  away  of  the  stores  and  ammunition,  after  Sarsfield 
^nd  Berwick,  and  even  the  citizens  themselves^  had  declared 


440 


THE  STOBY  OF  IBELANB. 


they  would  defend  the  city,  was  the  most  scandalous  part 
of  the  proceeding.  Nevertheless,  undismayed,  Sarsfield, 
assisted  by  a  French  officer  of  engineers,  De  Boisseleau, 
who,  dissenting  from  Lauzun's  estimate  of  the  defences, 
volunteered  to  remain,  boldly  set  about  preparing  Limer- 
ick for  siege.  Happily  for  the  national  honour  of  Ireland, 
the  miserable  court  party  thus  cruelly  deserted  Limerick. 
That  base  abandonment  left  all  the  glory  of  its  defence 
to  the  brave  heroes  who  remained. 

De  Boisseleau  was  named  governor  of  the  city,  and 
Sarsfield  commander  of  the  horse.  It  was  decided  that 
the  latter  force  should  be  posted  on  the  Clare  side  of  the 
Shannon,  opposite  the  city  (with  which  communication 
was  kept  up  by  the  bridges),  its  chief  duty  being  at  all 
hazards  to  prevent  the  Williamites  from  crossing  to  that 
shore  at  any  of  the  fords  above  the  city.  De  Boisseleau 
meanwhile  was  to  conduct  the  engineering  operations  of 
the  defence. 

It  was  true  enough  that  Lauzun,  when  he  scoffed  at 
those  defences,  saw  very  poor  chance  for  the  city,  as  far 
as  ramparts  of  stone  and  mortar  were  concerned.  "  The 
city,"  we  are  told,  had  neither  outworks,  glacis,  fosses, 
half-moons,  or  horn  works.  An  old  wall  flanked  with  a 
few  tottering  towers,  but  without  either  ditch  or  parapet, 
was  its  only  defence."  ^  However,  De  Boisseleau  soon 
set  to  work  to  improve  upon  these,  mounting  batteries, 
and  digging  covered  ways  or  counterscarps ;  the  citizens, 
gentle  and  simple,  and  even  the  women  and  children, 
working  from  sunrise  to  sunset  at  the  construction  or 
strengthening  of  defences. 

Early  on  the  9th  of  August,  1690,  William  drew  from 
his  encampment  at  Cahirconlish,  and,  confident  of  an  easy 
victory,  sat  down  before  Limerick.    That  day  he  occupied 


1  First  Siege  of  Limerick:  M.  J.  M'Cann, 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAXD. 


441 


himself  in  selecting  favourable  sites  for  batteries  to  com- 
mand the  city,  and  in  truth,  owing  to  the  formation  of 
the  ground,  the  city  was  at  nearly  every  point  nakedly 
exposed  to  his  guns.  He  next  sent  in  a  summons  to  sur- 
render, but  De  Boisseleau  courteously  replied  that  "he 
hoped  he  should  merit  his  opinion  more  by  a  vigorous 
defence  than  a  shameful  surrender  of  a  fortress  which  he 
had  been  entrusted  with/'  ^ 

The  siege  now  began.  William's  bombardment,  how- 
ever, proceeded  slowly:  and  the  Limerick  gunners,  on  the 
other  hand,  were  much  more  active  and  vigorous  than  he 
had  expected.  On  Monday,  the  11th,  their  fire  compelled 
him  to  shift  his  field  train  entirely  out  of  range ;  and  on 
the  next  day,  as  if  intent  on  following  up  such  practice, 
their  balls  fell  so  thickly  about  his  own  tent,  killing  sev- 
eral persons,  that  he  had  to  shift  his  own  quarters  also. 
But  in  a  day  or  two  he  meant  to  be  in  a  position  to  pay 
back  these  attentions  with  heavy  interest,  and  to  reduce 
those  old  walls  despite  all  resistance.  In  fine,  there  was 
coming  up  to  him  from  Waterford  a  magnificent  battering 
train,  together  with  immense  stores  of  ammunition,  and, 
what  was  nearlj'  as  effective  for  him  as  the  siege  train,  a 
number  of  pontoon-boats  of  tin  or  sheet  copper,  which 
would  soon  enable  him  to  pass  the  Shannon  where  he 
pleased.  So  he  took  very  coolly  the  resistance  so  far 
offered  from  the  city.  For  in  a  day  more  Limerick  would 
be  absolutely  at  his  mercy  I 

So  thought  William ;  and  so  seemed  the  inevitable  fact. 
But  there  was  a  bold  heart  and  an  active  brain  at  work  at 
that  very  moment  planning  a  deed  destined  to  immortal- 
ize its  author  to  all  time,  and  to  baffle  WilUam's  now  all 
but  accomplished  designs  on  Limerick ! 

On  Sunday,  the  10th,  the  battering  train  and  its  con- 


1  Mejnoirs  of  King  James  the  Second. 


442 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


voy  had  reached  Cashel.  On  Monday,  the  11th,  they 
reached  a  place  called  Bally neet}',  within  nine  or  ten  miles 
of  the  Williamite  camp.  The  country  through  which 
they  had  passed  was  all  in  the  hands  of  their  own  garri- 
sons or  patrols ;  yet  they  had  so  important  and  precious  a 
charge  that  they  had  watched  it  jealously  so  far ;  but  now 
they  were  virtually  at  the  camp  —  only  a  few  miles  in  its 
rear ;  and  so  the  convoy,  when  night  fell,  drew  the  siege 
train  and  the  vast  line  of  ammunition  wagons,  the  pon- 
toon-boats and  store-loads,  into  a  field  close  to  an  old 
ruined  castle,  and,  duly  posting  night  sentries,  gave  them- 
selves to  repose. 

That  da}^  an  Anglicised  Irishman,  one  Manus  O'Brien, 
a  Protestant  landlord  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Limerick, 
came  into  the  Williamite  camp  with  a  piece  of  news. 
Sarsfield  at  the  head  of  five  hundred  picked  men,  had 
ridden  off  the  night  before  on  some  mysterious  enterprise 
in  the  direction  of  Killaloe ;  and  the  informer,  from  Sars- 
field's  character,  judged  rightly  that  something  important 
was  afoot,  and  earnestly  assured  the  Williamites  that 
nothing  was  too  desperate  for  that  commander  to  accom- 
olish. 

The  Williamite  officers  made  little  of  this.  They 
thought  the  fellow  was  only  anxious  to  make  much  of  a 
trifle,  by  wa)^  of  securing  favour  for  himself.  Besides, 
they  knew  of  notliing  in  the  direction  of  Killaloe  that 
cotild  affect  them.  William,  at  length,  was  informed  ot 
the  story.  He,  too,  failed  to  discern  what  Sarsfield  could 
be  at ;  but  his  mind  anxiously  reverting  to  his  grand  bat- 
tering train  —  albeit  it  was  now  barel}^  a  few  miles  off  — 
he,  to  make  safety  doubly  sure,  ordered  Sir  John  Lanier 
to  proceed  at  ojice  with  five  hundred  horse  to  meet  the 
convoy.  By  some  curious  chance,  Sir  John  —  perhaps 
deeming  his  night  ride  quite  needless  —  did  not  greatly 
hurry  to  set  forth.    At  two  o'clock,  Tuesday  morning. 


THE  STORY  OF  IBELAND. 


443 


instead  of  at  nine  o'clock  on  Monday  evening,  he  rode 
leisurely  off.  His  delay  of  five  hours  made  all  the  differ- 
ence in  the  world,  as  we  shall  see. 

It  was  indeed  true  that  Sarsfield,  on  Sunday  night,  had 
secretly  quitted  his  camp  on  the  Clare  side,  at  the  head 
of  a  chosen  body  of  his  best  horsemen  ;  and,  true  enough, 
also,  that  it  was  upon  an  enterprise  worthy  of  his  reputa- 
tion he  had  set  forth.  In  fine,  he  had  heard  of  the  ap- 
proach of  the  siege  train,  and  had  planned  nothing  less 
than  its  surprise,  capture,  and  destruction ! 

On  Sunday  night  he  rode  to  Killaloe,  distant  twelve 
miles  above  Limerick  on  the  river.  The  bridge  here  was 
guarded  by  a  party  of  the  enemy;  but  favoured  by  the 
darkness,  he  proceeded  further  up  the  river  until  he  came 
to  a  ford  near  Ballyvally,  where  he  crossed  the  Shannon, 
and  passed  into  Tipperary  County.  The  country  around 
him  now  was  all  in  the  enemy's  hands;  but  he  had- one 
with  him  as  guide  on  this  eventful  occasion,  whose  famili- 
arity with  the  locality  enabled  Sarsfield  to  evade  all  the 
Williamite  patrols,  and  but  for  whose  services  it  may  be 
doubted  if  his  ride  this  night  had  not  been  his  last.  This 
was  Hogan,  the  rapparee  chief,  immortalized  in  local  tra- 
ditions as  Galloping  Hogan."  By  paths  and  passes 
known  only  to  riders  ''native  to  the  sod,"  he  turned  into 
the  deep  gorges  of  Silver  Mines,  and  ere  day  had  dawned 
was  bivouacked  in  a  wild  ravine  of  the  Keeper  Mountains. 
Here  he  lay  perdu  all  day  on  Monday.  When  night  fell 
there  was  anxious  tightening  of  horsegirths  and  girding 
of  swords  with  Sarsfield's  five  hundred.  They  knew  the 
siege  train  w^as  at  Cashel  on  the  previous  day,  and  must 
by  this  time  have  reached  near  to  the  Williamite  lines. 
The  midnight  ride  before  them  was  long,  devious,  diffi- 
cult, and  perilous ;  the  task  at  the  end  of  it  was  crucial 
and  momentous  indeed.  Led  by  their  trusty  guide,  they 
set  out  southward,  still  keeping  in  by-ways  and  mountain 


444 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


roads.  Meanwhile,  as  already  mentioned,  the  siege  train 
and  convoy  had  that  evening  reached  Ballyneety,  where 
the  guns  were  parked  and  convoy  bivouacked.  It  was 
three  o'clock  in  the  morning  when  Sarsfield,  reaching 
within  a  mile  or  two  of  the  spot,  learnt  from  a  peasant 
that  the  prize  was  now  not  far  off  ahead  of  him.  And 
here  we  encounter  a  fact  which  gives  the  touch  of  true 
romance  to  the  whole  story  !  It  happened,  by  one  of 
those  coincidences  that  often  startle  us  with  their  singu- 
larity, that  the  pass-word  with  the  Williamite  convoy 
on  that  night  was  "  Sarsfield  !  "  That  Sarsfield  obtained 
the  pass-word  before  he  reached  the  halted  convoy,  is  also 
unquestionable,  though  how  he  came  by  his  information 
is  variously  stated.  The  painstaking  historian  of  Limer- 
ick states  that  from  a  woman,  wife  of  a  sergeant  in  the 
Williamite  convoy,  unfeelingly  left  behind  on  the  road  by 
her  own  party  in  the  evening,  but  most  humanely  and 
kindly  treated  by  Sarsfield's  men,  the  word  was  obtained.^ 
Riding  softly  to  within  a  short  distance  of  the  place  in- 
dicated, he  halted  and  sent  out  a  few  trusted  scouts  to 
scan  the  whole  position  narrowly.  They  returned  report- 
ing that  besides  the  sentries  there  were  only  a  few  score 
troopers  drowsing  beside  the  watch  fires,  on  guard ;  the 
rest  of  the  convoy  being  sleeping  in  all  the  immunity  of 
fancied  safety.  Sarsfield  now  gave  his  final  orders  — 
silence  or  death,  till  they  were  in  upon  the  sentries;  then, 
forward  like  a  lightning  flash  upon  the  guards.  One  of 
the  Williamite  sentries  fancied  he  heard  the  beat  of  horse- 
hoofs  approaching  him ;  he  never  dreamt  of  foes ;  he 
thought  it  must  be  one  of  their  own  patrols.  And  truly 
enough,  through  the  gloom  he  saw  the  figure  of  an  officer 
evidently  at  the  head  of  a  body  of  cavalry,  whether  phan- 
tom or  reality  he  could  not  tell.    The  sentry  challenged. 


1  Lenihan's  History  of  Limerick,  page  232. 


THE  STOEY  OF  IBELAND. 


445 


and,  still  imagining  he  had  friends,  demanded  the  "word." 
Suddenly,  as  if  from  the  spirit  land,  and  with  a  wild,  weird 
shout  that  startled  all  the  sleepers,  the  "phantom  troop" 
shot  past  like  a  tliunderbolt ;  the  leader  crying  as  he  drew 
his  sword,  "  Sarsfield  is  the  word,  and  Sarsfield  is  the 
man  !  "  The  guards  dashed  forward,  the  bugles  screamed 
the  alarm,  the  sleepers  rushed  to  arms,  but  theirs  was 
scarcely  an  effort.  The  broadswords  of  Sarsfield's  five 
hundred  were  in  their  midst ;  and  to  the  affrighted  gaze 
of  the  panic-stricken  victims  that  five  hundred  seemed 
thousands  !  Short,  desperate,  and  bloody  was  that  scene ; 
so  short,  so  sudden,  so  fearful,  that  it  seemed  like  the 
work  of  incantation.  In  a  few  minutes  the  whole  of  the 
convoy  were  cut  down  or  dispersed;  and  William's  splen- 
did siege  train  was  in  Sarsfield's  hands  !  But  his  task  was 
as  yet  only  half  accomplished.  Morning  was  approach- 
ing; William's  camp  was  barely  eight  or  ten  miles  dis- 
tant, and  thither  some  of  the  escaped  had  hurriedlj^  fled. 
There  was  scant  time  for  the  important  work  yet  to  be 
done.  The  siege  guns  and  mortars  were  filled  with  pow- 
der, and  each  muzzle  buried  in  the  earth;  upon  and 
around  the  guns  were  piled  the  pontoon-boats,  the  con- 
tents of  the  ammunition  wagons,  and  all  the  stores  of 
various  kinds,  of  which  there  was  a  vast  quantity.  A 
train  of  powder  was  laid  to  this  hugh  pyre,  and  Sarsfield, 
removing  all  the  wounded  Williamites  to  a  safe  distance,^ 
drew  off  his  men,  halting  them  while  the  train  was  being 
fired.  There  was  a  flash  that  lighted  all  the  heavens  and 
showed  with  dazzling  brightness  the  country  for  miles 
around.  Then  the  ground  rocked  and  heaved  beneath 
the  gazers'  feet,  as,  with  a  deafening  roar  that  seemed  to 
rend  the  firmament,  the  vast  mass  burst  into  the  sky ;  and 


1  Even  the  WiUiamite  chroniclers  make  mention  of  Sarsfield's  kind- 
ness to  the  wounded  at  Ballyneety. 


446  THE  STOEY  OF  IJRELANi). 

as  suddenly  all  was  gloom  again  !  The  sentinels  on  Lim- 
erick walls  heard  that  awful  peal.  It  rolled  like  a  thun- 
der storm  away  by  the  heights  of  Cratloe,  and  wakened 
sleepers  amidst  the  hills  of  Clare.  William  heard  it  too  ; 
and  he  at  least  needed  no  interpreter  of  that  fearful 
sound.  He  knew  in  that  moment  that  his  splendid  siege 
train  had  perished,  destroyed  by  a  feat  that  only  one  man 
could  have  so  planned  and  executed ;  an  achievement 
destined  to  surround  with  unfading  glory  the  name  of 
Patrick  Sarsfield  ! 

Sir  John  Lanier's  party,  coming  up  in  no  wise  rapidly, 
saw  the  flash  that,  as  they  said,  gave  broad  daylight  for  a 
second,  and  felt  the  ground  shake  beneath  them  as  if  by 
an  earthquake,  and  then  their  leader  found  he  was  just  in 
time  to  be  too  late.  Rushing  on  he  sighted  Sarsfield's 
rear-guard  ;  but  there  were  memories  of  the  Irish  cavalry 
at  the  Boyne  in  no  way  encouraging  him  to  force  an  en- 
counter. From  the  Williamite  camp  two  other  powerful 
bodies  of  horse  were  sent  out  instantly  on  the  explosion 
being  heard,  to  surround  Sarsfield  and  cut  him  off  from 
the  Shannon.  But  all  was  vain,  and  on  Tuesday  evenhig 
he  and  his  Five  Hundred  rode  into  camp  amidst  a  scene 
such  as  Limerick  had  not  witnessed  for  centuries.  The 
whole  force  turned  out ;  the  citizens  came  with  laurel 
boughs  to  line  the  way,  and  as  he  marched  in  amidst  a 
conqueror's  ovation,  the  gunners  on  the  old  bastions  across 
the  river  gave  a  royal  salute  to  him  whom  they  all  now 
hailed  as  the  saviour  of  the  city  1 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


447 


CHAPTER  LXVIII. 

HOW  WILLIA3M  PROCURED  A  NEW  SIEGE  TRAIN  AND 
BREACHED  THE  WALL.  HOW  THE  WOMEN  OF  LIMER- 
ICK WON  THEIR  FAME  IN  IRISH  HISTORY.  HOW  THE 
BREACH  WAS  STORMED  AND  THE  MINE  SPRUNG.  HOW 
WILLIAM  FLED  FROM     UNCONQUERED  LIMERICK." 

N  the  Williamite  camp  the  event  caused  propor- 
tionate dismay,  depression,  and  discouragement. 
But  William  was  not  a  man  easily  thwarted  or 
disconcerted.  A  week  later  he  had  another  siege 
train  of  thirty-six  guns  and  four  mortars  brought  up  from 
Waterford,  pouring  red  hot  shot  into  the  devoted  city. 
A  perfect  storm  of  bombs,  ''fire-balls,"  "carcasses,"  and 
other  diabolical  contrivances,  rained  upon  every  part  of 
the  town,  firing  it  in  several  places.  Sarsfield  and  De 
Boisseleau  now  ordered  that  all  the  women  and  children 
should  withdraw  into  the  Clare  suburb.  The  women  eyi 
masse  rebelled  against  the  order !  They  vehemently  de- 
clared that  no  terrors  should  cause  them  to  quit  their 
husbands  and  brothers  in  this  dreadful  hour,  fighting  for 
God  and  country.  They  had  already  bravely  aided  in 
erecting  the  defences  ;  they  were  now  resolved  to  aid  in  the 
struggle  behind  them,  ready  to  die  in  the  breach  or  on 
the  walls  beside  their  kindred,  ere  the  hated  foe  should 
enter  Limerick. 

And  the  women  of  Limerick  were  true  to  that  resolve ! 
Then  might  be  seen,  saj^  the  chroniclers,  day  after  day. 
women,  old  and  young,  full  of  enthusiasm  and  determina- 
tion, labouring  in  the  breaches,  mines,  and  counterscarps, 
digging  the  earth,  filling  the  gabions,  piling  the  shot,  and 
drawing  up  ammunition,  while  around  them  showered  balls, 
bombs,  and  grenades. 


448 


THE  STORY  OF  lliELANB. 


By  this  time  the  surface  of  the  whole  of  the  surround- 
ing suburbs  on  the  southern  side  Avas  cut  up  into  a  vast 
maze  of  ''zig-zags,"  trenches,  and  galleries,  by  the  be- 
siegers. On  the  26th  their  trenchers  were  within  a  few  feet 
of  the  palisades,  and  a  breach  had  been  made  in  the  walls 
at  St.  John's  Gate.  William  moreover  pursued  mining  to 
a  great  extent.  But  if  he  mined,  Sarsfield  countermined, 
and  it  turned  out  that  the  Irish  mines  were  far  beyond 
anything  the  siegers  could  have  credited.  In  fact  the 
scientific  skill,  the  ingenuity  and  fertility  of  engineering 
resorts,  appliances,  and  devices,  exhibited  by  the  defenders 
of  Limerick  have  seldom  been  surpassed.  The  miraculous 
magic  of  devoted  zeal  and  earnest  activity  transformed 
the  old  city  wall  into  a  line  of  defences  such  as  Toddleben 
himself  in  our  own  day  might  gaze  upon  with  admiration.^ 
Food,  however,  was  lamentably  scarce,  but  in  truth  none 
of  the  besieged  gave  thought  to  any  privation ;  their  whole 
souls  were  centred  in  one  great  object  —  defence  of  the 
walls,  defeat  of  the  foe. 

On  Wednesday,  the  27th  of  August,  the  breach  having 
been  still  further  increased  by  a  furious  bombardment, 
William  gave  orders  for  the  assault.  Ten  thousand  men 
were  ordered  to  support  the  storming  party ;  and  at  half- 
past  three  in  the  afternoon,  at  a  given  signal,  five  hundred 
grenadiers  leaped  from  the  trenches,  fired  their  pieces, 
flung  their  grenades,  and  in  a  few  moments  had  mounted 
the  breach.  The  Irish  were  not  unprepared,  although  at 
that  moment  the  attack  was  not  expected.  Unknown  to 
the  besiegers,  Boisseleau  had  caused  an  entrenchment  to 
be  made  inside  the  breach.    Behind  this  entrenchment  he 


1  Among  numerous  other  happy  resorts  and  ingenious  adaptations  of  the 
means  at  hand  to  the  purpose  of  defence,  we  read  tliat,  wool  stores  being 
numerous  in  the  city,  the  wool  was  packed  into  strong  sacks  and  cases,_a 
lining  of  which  was  hung  out  over  the  weakest  of  the  walls,  completely 
deadening  the  effect  of  the  enemy's  shot. 


rnr.  STORY  op  IJRELAXI), 


449 


had  planted  a  few  pieces  of  cannon,  and  from  these  a  cross 
fire  now  opened  with  murderous  effect  on  the  assaihmts, 
after  they  had  filled  the  space  l^etween  the  breach  and  the 
entrenchment.  For  a  moment  they  halted  —  staggered  by 
this  fatal  surprise  ;  but  the  next  they  pushed  forward  with 
the  courage  and  fury  of  lions.  A  bloody  hand-to-hand 
struggle  ensued.  Spear  and  dagger,  sword  and  butted 
musket  could  alone  be  used,  and  they  were  brought  into 
deadly  requisition.  The  instant  William  found  his  storm- 
ing party  had  fastened  well  upon  the  brcaeli.  the  supports 
in  thousands  were  flung  forward.  On  the  Irish  side,  too, 
aids  were  hurried  up;  but  eventually,  with  a  tremendous 
rush,  the  assaulting  party  burst  tlirough  their  opponents, 
and  in  a  moment  more  poured  into  the  town. 

That  feat  which  usually  gives  victory  to  an  assault,  was, 
however,  in  this  instance,  only  the  sure  occasion  of  repulse 
and  utter  defeat  for  William's  regiments.  The  news  that 
the  foe  had  penetrated  into  the  town,  so  far  from  causing 
dismay  to  inhabitants  or  garrison,  seemed  to  act  like  the 
summons  of  a  magician  on  the  countless  hosts  of  enchant- 
ment. Down  through  street,  aiid  lane,  and  alley,  poured 
the  citizens,  women  and  men;  the  butcher  witli  his  axe, 
the  shipwright  with  his  adze ;  each  man  with  such  weapon 
as  he  had  been  able  most  readily  to  grasp ;  the  women, 
"like  liberated  furies,''  flinging  stones,  bricks,  glass  bot- 
tled, delft-ware,  and  other  missiles,  with  fury  on  the  foe. 
Some  of  the  Irish  cavalry  on  the  Clare  side,  hearing  the 
news,  dashed  across  the  bridges,  '-the  pavements  blazing 
beneath  the  horses'  hoofs  as  they  galloped  to  Ball's  Bridge, 
where  dismounting  and  flinging  their  horses  loose,  they 
charged  into  Broad  Street,  and  sword  in  hand  joined  their 
countrymen  in  the  melee,*'  Even  the  phlegmatic  William, 
under  whose  eye  the  assault  was  made,  became  excited 
as  he  gazed  on  the  struggle  from  '^Crom well's  Fort,"  ever 
and  anon  ordering  forward  additional  troops  to  tlie  sus- 


4,00  ryiK  STOBY  OF  JUKLANT). 

tainuient  of  his  assaulting  column.  For  three  Ilowh  this 
bloody  hand-to-hand  fight  in  the  streets  and  the  breach 
Avent  on.  The  women,  says  Stor}"  (the  Williamite  chap- 
lain), rushed  boldly  into  the  breach,  and  stood  nearer  to 
our  men  than  to  their  own,  hurling  stones  and  broken 
bottles  right  into  the  faces  of  the  attacking  troops,  re- 
gardless of  death  by  sword  or  bullet,  which  many  of  them 
boldly  met.  Before  defenders  thus  animated  it  was  no 
disgrace  to  the  assailants  to  give  wa3^  By  seven  o'clock 
in  the  evening  the}"  had  been  completely  driven  out  of 
the  streets  and  back  into  the  counterscarp.  Here  the 
contest  was  for  a  moment  renewed ;  but  only  for  a  mo- 
ment. At  the  point  of  sword  and  pike  the  assailants  were 
driven  into  their  own  trenches,  and  a  shout  of  victory 
arose  from  the  besieged  as  they  hurled  from  the  walls,  as 
they  thought,  the  last  remnant  of  the  Dutch  battalions. 
But  William  had  yet  a  grip  upon  those  avmHs.  In  tlie 
Avild  confusion  of  the  three  hours"  struggle,  the  Branden- 
burghers,  Avhen  being  pressed  back  upon  the  breach,  got 
in  at  the  rear  of  one  of  the  Irish  batteries,  iiito,  and  over 
which,  w^e  are  told,  they  now  swarmed  in  a  dense  black 
mass.  In  a  moment,  however,  the  wliole  struggle  was 
suddenly  and  decisively  termhiated  by  the  crowning  feat 
of  the  defence.  At  the  very  instant  when  tlie  Branden- 
burghers  —  little  knowing  that  the  ground  beneath  them 
was  every  rood  a  mine  —  were  exulting  over  what  they 
thought  at  least  an  instalment  of  success,  the  earth  heaved 
and  yawned  under  their  feet,  and  with  a  roar  like  thun- 
der, mingled  wdth  a  thousand  despairing  death-shrieks, 
battery  and  Brandenburghers  went  flying  into  the  air! 
For  a  moment  there  was  a  pause ;  each  side  alike  seeming 
to  feel  tlie  awfulness  of  the  fate  that  had  so  suddenly 
annihilated  the  devoted  regiment.  Then,  indeed,  a  shout 
wild  and  high  went  up  from  the  walls,  wafted  from  end  to 
end  of  the  city,  and  cauglit  up  on  the  Thomond  shore,  and 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


a  final  salvo  i'roni  the  iiiicoiiquered  battlements,  by  way 
of  parting  salute  to  the  flying  foe,  proclaimed  that  patriot- 
ism and  heroism  had  won  the  victory. 

Far  more  honourable  at  all  times  than  conquering  proAV- 
ess  in  battle — far  more  worthy  of  admiration  and  fame 
—  is  humanity  to  the  fallen  and  the  wounded,  generosity 
to  the  vanquished.  Let  the  youth  of  Ireland,  therefore, 
know,  when  with  bounding  heart  they  read  or  relate  so  far 
this  glorious  story  of  Limerick,  that  there  remains  to  be 
added  the  brightest  ray  to  the  halo  of  its  fame.  At  the 
moment  when  the  last  overwhelming  rush  of  the  garrison 
and  inhabitants  swept  the  assailants  from  the  breach,  in 
the  impetuosity  of  the  onset  the  pursuing  Irish  penetrated 
at  one  point  into  the  Williamite  camp,  and  in  the  melee 
the  Williamite  hospital  took  fire.  What  follows  deserves 
to  be  recorded  in  letters  of  gold.  The  Irish  instantane- 
ously turned  from  all  pursuit  and  conflict  —  some  of  them 
rushed  into  the  flames  to  bear  away  to  safety  from  the 
burning  building  its  wounded  occupants,  while  others  of 
them  with  devoted  zeal  applied  themselves  to  the  task  of 
quenching  the  flames  I  It  was  only  when  all  danger  from 
the  conflagration  was  over,  that  they  gave  thought  to  their' 
own  safety,  and  fought  their  way  back  to  the  town  I 

William  resolving  to  renew  the  assault  next  day,  could 
not  persuade  his  men  to  advance,  though  he  offered  to 
lead  them  in  person  !  Whereupon,"  says  the  Protestant 
historian  who  relates  the  fact,  ''in  all  rage  he  left  the 
camp,  and  never  stopped  till  he  came  to  Waterford,  wliere 
he  took  shipping  for  England,  his  army  in  the  meantime 
retiring  by  night  from  Limerick."  ^ 


CasseU's  (Godkin's)  History  of  Ireland,  vol.  ii.  page  114. 


452 


THE  STOHY  OF  IRELAND. 


CHAPTER  LXIX. 

HOW  THE  FRENCH  SAILED  OFF,  AND  THK  DKSEUTEn 
IHI8H  AKMV  STARVED  IN  RAGS,  RL'T  WOULD  NOT 
GIVE  UP  THE  RIGHT.  ARRIVAL  Ol  "ST.  RUTH,  THE 
VAIN  AND  BRAVE." 

HILE  Williarrrs  cowed  aiul  beaten  army  were 
flying  from  Limerick,  and  the  (jneen  city  of  tli(* 
Shannon  was  holding  high  carnival  of  rejoicing, 
a  Frencli  fleet  was  anchoring  in  Galway  to  take 
off  Lauzun  and  the  French  auxiliaries  I  James  had  repre- 
Hented  in  France  that  all  was  lost  —  that  the  struggle  was 
over —  that  the  Irish  would  not  fight ;  so  King  Louis  sent 
a  fleet  imperatively  to  bring  away  his  men.  Accordingly, 
l^auznn  and  his  division  embarked  and  sailed  from  Cjuhvuy, 
Tyrconnell,  however,  proceeded  to  France  at  the  same 
time,  to  represent  to  James  his  error  as  to  the  condition  (»!* 
affairs  in  Ireland,  and  to  obtain  from  King  Louis  a  new 
expedition  in  aid  of  the  struggle. 

An  army  in  the  field  is  a  costly  engine.  Who  was  1o 
supply  the  Irish  with  a  military  chest How  were  the 
forces  to  be  j>aid,  supported,  clothed  ?  And,  above  all. 
liow  were  military  stores,  ammunition,  arms,  and  the 
myriad  of  other  necessaries  for  the  very  existence  of  an 
army,  to  be  had?  The  struggle  was  not  merely  against  S4» 
many  thousand  Williamites  —  Dutch,  Danish,  or  English 
—  on  Irish  soil;  but  ngainst  so  many  as  a  wing  of  the 
English  nation,  or  mercenaries  in  its  pay.  with  the  consti- 
tuted government,  the  wealth,  the  taxes,  the  levies,  the 
arsenals  and  foundries  of  jjowerful  England  behind  them. 
We  need  hardly  won<ler  that  while,  every  driy,  transports 
arrived  from  England  with  arms,  anununition,  and  military 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


458 


stores,  new  uniform,  tents,  baggage,  and  transport  appli- 
ances, for  the  Williamite  army,  the  hapless  Irish  garrisons 
were  literally  in  rags,  unpaid,  unsupplied,  short  of  food, 
and  wretchedly  off  for  ammunition.  Matters  were  some- 
what mended  by  the  arrival  of  Tyrconnell  at  Limerick,  in 
February  of  the  following  year  (1691)  with  a  small  supply 
of  money  and  some  shiploads  of  provisions,  but  no  men. 
He  brought,  however,  news,  which  to  the  half-famished  and 
ragged  garrisons  was  more  welcome  than  piles  of  uniform 
clothing,  or  chests  of  gold  —  the  cheering  intelligence  that 
King  Louis  was  preparing  for  Ireland  military  assistance 
on  a  scale  beyond  anything  France  had  yet  afforded  I 

On  the  8th  of  May  following,  a  P^rench  fleet  arrived  in 
the  Shannon,  bringing  some  provisions,  clothing,  arms,  and 
ammunition  for  the  Irish  troops,  but  no  mone}^  and  no 
troops.  In  this  fleet,  how^ever,  came  Licutenant-General 
St.  Ruth,  a  French  officer  of  great  bravery,  ability,  energy, 
and  experience,  sent  to  take  the  chief  command  of  the 
Irish  army.  This  appointment,  it  may  be  remarked,  in 
effect  reduced  to  a  fifth  subordinate  position  Sarsfield.  the 
man  to  whom  was  mainly  owing  the  existence  of  any  army, 
at  all  in  Ireland  at  this  juncture,  and  on  whom  during  the 
past  winter  had  practically  devolved  all  the  responsibilities 
of  the  chief  military  and  civil  authority. 

Every  fortunate  accident,"  says  one  of  our  historians, 
''had  combined  to  elevate  that  gallant  cavalry  officer  into 
the  position  of  national  leadership.  He  was  the  son  of  a 
member  of  the  Irish  commons  proscribed  for  his  patriotism 
and  religion  in  1641;  his  mother  being  Anna  O'Moorc- 
daughter  of  the  organizer  of  the  (  atliolic  Confederation. 
He  was  a  Catholic  in  religion  ;  spoke  (Gaelic  as  fluently  as 
English  ;  was  brave,  impulsive,  handsome,  aiid  generous  to 
a  fault,  like  the  men  he  led.  Dui  ing  Tyrconneirs  absence 
every  sincere  lover  of  his  countr}  eamc  to  him  with  intel- 
ligence and  looked  to  him  for  direc  cion.'" 


454 


THf:  STOIIY  OF  1  RELAX  I), 


Tlie  viceroy  had  brought  him  from  France  the  rank  and 
title  of  Earl  of  Lucan ;  ''a  title  drawn  from  that  pleasant 
liamlet  in  the  valley  of  the  Liffej',  where  he  had  learned 
to  lisp  the  catechism  of  a  patriot  at  the  knee  of  Anna 
O'Moore."  But  it  was  not  for  titles  or  personal  honours 
Sarsfield  fought.  More  dear  to  him  was  the  cause  he  had 
at  heart ;  and  though  unquestionably  the  denial  to  him  of 
a  higher  position  of  command  in  this  campaign  led  to  the 
bitterest  feelings  in  the  army  —  with  the  worst  of  results 
ultimately  —  in  his  own  breast  there  rested  no  thought 
but  how  to  forward  that  cause,  no  ambition  but  to  serve 
it,  whether  as  commoner  or  earl,  as  subaltern  or  as  chief. 


CHAPTER  LXX. 

HOW    GINCKEL    BESIEGED    ATHLONE.     HOW    THE  IRISH 
KEPT  THE  BRIDGE,"  AND  HOW  THE  BRAVE  CUSTUME 
AND  HIS  GLORIOUS  COMPANIONS  "  DIED  FOR  IRELAND." 
HOW  ATHLONE,  THUS  SAVED,  WAS  LOST  IN  AN  HOUR  ! 

^^^^■^^^^^^HE  Williamite  army  rendezvoused  at  ]\Jullingar 
towards  the  end  of  May,  under  Generals  De 
Ginckel,  Talmash,  and  Mackay.  On  the  7th 
June,  they  moved  westward  for  Athlone,  "  the 
ranks  one  blaze  of  scarlet,  and  the  artillery  such  as  had 
never  before  been  seen  in  Ireland."  ^  They  were  detained 
ten  days  besieging  an  Irish  outpost,  Ballymore  Castle,  he- 
roically defended  by  Lieutenant-Colonel  Ulick  Burke  and 
a  force  of  twelve  hundred  men  against  Ginckel's  army  of 
thirteen  thousand,  and  that  artillery  described  for  us  by 


1  :Macaiilay. 


THE  ^rOKY  OF  IB  EL  AX  1). 


455 


Macaulaj'.  On  the  18th  Ginckel  was  joined  hy  the  Duke 
of  Wh'temburg,  the  Prince  of  Hesse,  and  the  Count  of 
Nassau,  with  seven  thousand  foreign  mercenaries.  On  the 
19th  their  full  force  appeared  before  Athlone  and  sum- 
moned the  town  to  surrender. 

On  the  previous  occasion,  when  besieged  by  Douglas, 
the  governor  (Colonel  Grace)  relinquished  as  untenable 
the  Leinster  (or  English  ")  side  of  the  town,  and  made 
his  stand  successfully  from  the  Connaught  (or  "  Irish  ") 
side.  The  governor  on  this  occasion  —  Colonel  Fitzgerald 
—  resolved  to  defend  both  the  English  "  and  Irish  " 
sides,  St.  Ruth  having  strongly  counselled  him  so  to  do, 
and  promised  to  reach  him  soon  with  the  bulk  of  the  Irish 
army  from  Limerick.  Colonel  Fitzgerald  had  not  more 
than  three  hundred  and  fifty  men  as  a  garrison ;  neverthe- 
less, knowing  that  all  depended  on  holdiiig  out  till  St. 
Ruth  could  come  up,  he  did  not  wait  for  Ginckel  to  appear 
in  sight,  but  sallied  out  with  his  small  force,  and  disputed 
with  the  Williamite  army  the  approaches  to  the  town,  thus 
successfully  retarding  them  for  five  or  six  hours.  But 
Ginckel  had  merely  to  plant  his  artillery,  and  the  only 
•w^Us  Athlone  possessed  —  on  that  side  at  least  —  were 
breached  and  crumbled  like  pastry.  Towards  evening; 
on  the  17th  June,  the  whole  of  the  bastion  at  the  Dublin 
Gate,"  near  the  river  on  the  north  side,  being  levelled,  the 
(English)  town  was  assaulted.  The  storming  party,  as 
told  off,  were  four  thousand  men.  headed  by  three  hundred 
grenadiers,  under  Mackay,  and  with  profuse  supports  be- 
sides. To  meet  these,  Fitzgerald  had  barely  the  survivors 
of  his  three  hundred  and  fifty  men,  now  exhausted  after 
forty-eight  hours'  constant  fighting.  In  the  breach,  when 
the  assault  was  delivered,  tivo  hundred  of  that  gallant  band 
fell  to  rise  no  more.  The  remainder,  fiercelj^  fighting,  fell 
back  inch  by  inch  towards  the  bridge,  pressed  by  their 
four  thousand  foes-    From  the  Williamites  shouts  now 


456 


THE  STORY  OF  IK  ELAND. 


arose  on  all  sides  of,  "  the  Iridye  —  the  bridge  ;  "  and  a  furi- 
ous rush  was  made  to  get  over  the  bridge  along  with,  if 
not  before,  the  retreating  Irish.  In  this  event,  of  course, 
all  was  lost ;  but  the  brave  Fitzgerald  and  his  handful  of 
heroes  knew  the  fact  well.  Turning  to  baj^  at  the  bridge- 
end,  they  opposed  themselves  like  an  impenetrable  wall  to 
the  mass  of  the  enemy ;  while  above  the  din  of  battle  an^l 
the  shouts  of  the  combatants  could  be  heard  sounds  in  the 
rear  that  to  Mackay's  ear  needed  no  explanation — the 
Irish  were  breaking  down  the  arches  behind^  while  yet  they 
fought  in  front !  "  They  are  destroying  the  bridge^''  he 
shouted  wildly  :  On  !  on  !  save  the  bridge  — the  bridge  !  " 
Flinging  themselves  in  hundreds  on  the  few  score  men 
now  resisting  them,  the  stormers  sought  to  clear  the  way 
by  freely  giving  man  for  man,  life  for  life,  nay  four  for 
one  ;  but  it  would  not  do.  There  Fitzgerald  and  his  com- 
panions stood  like  adamant ;  the  space  at  the  bridge-end 
was  small ;  one  man  could  keep  five  at  bay ;  and  a  few 
paces  behind,  wielding  pick,  and  spade,  and  crowbar,  like 
furies,  were  the  engineers  of  the  Irish  garrison.  Soon  a 
low  rumbling  noise  was  heard,  followed  by  a  crash ;  and 
a  shout  of  triumph  broke  from  the  Irish  side  ;  a  yell  of 
rage  from  the  assailants ;  a  portion,  but  a  portion  only,  of 
two  arches  had  fallen  into  the  stream  :  the  bridge  was  still 
passable  I  Again  a  wild  eager  shout  from  Mackay.  "  On  I 
on!  Now!  now!  the  bridge  I  "  But  still  there  stood  the 
decimated  defenders,  with  clutched  guns  and  clenched 
teeth,  resolved  to  die  but  not  to  yield.  Suddenly  a  cry 
from  the  Irish  rear:  '^Back,  back,  men,  for  your  lives!'' 
The  brave  band  turned  from  the  front,  and  saw  the  half- 
broken  arches  behind  them  tottering.  Most  of  them 
rushed  with  lightning  speed  over  the  falling  mass;  but  the 
last  company  —  it  had  wheeled  round  even  at  that  mo- 
ment to  face  and  keep  back  the  enemy  —  were  too  late! 
As  they  rushed  for  the  passage,  the  mass  of  masonry 


THE  STORY  OF  IB  ELAND, 


457 


heaved  over  with  a  ruar  into  the  boiling  surges,  leaviug 
the  devoted  band  on  the  brink  in  the  midst  of  their  foes  I 
There  was  a  moment's  pause,  and  ahiiost  a  wail  burst  from 
the  Irish  on  the  Connaught  side ;  but  just  as  the  enemy 
rushed  with  vengeance  upon  the  doomed  group,  they  were 
seen  to  draw  back  a  pace  or  two  from  the  edge  of  the 
chasm,  fling  away  their  arms,  then  dash  forward  and  plunge 
into  the  stream.  Like  a  clap  of  thunder  broke  a  volley 
from  a  thousand  guns  on  the  Leinster  shore,  tearing  the 
water  into  foam.  There  was  a  minute  of  suspense  on  each 
side,  and  then  a  cheer  rang  out —  of  defiance,  exultation, 
victory  —  as  the  brave  fellows  were  seen  to  reach  the  other 
bank,  pulled  to  land  by  a  hundred  welcoming  hands ! 

St.  Ruth,  at  Ballinasloe,  on  his  way  up  from  Limerick, 
heard  next  day  that  the  English  town  had  fallen.  "  He 
instantly  set  out  at  the  head  of  fifteen  hundred  horse  and 
foot,  leaving  the  main  army  to  follow  as  quickly  as  possi- 
ble. On  his  arrival,  he  encamped  about  two  miles  west 
of  the  town,  and  appointed  Lieutenant-General  D'Usson 
governor  instead  of  the  gallant  Fitzgerald,  as  being  best 
skilled  in  defending  fortified  places."  ^  Now  came  the 
opportunity  for  that  splendid  artillery, the  like  of  which," 
Macaulay  has  told  us,  "  had  never  been  seen  in  Ireland." 
For  seven  long  days  of  midsummer  there  poured  against 
the  Irish  town  such  a  storm  of  iron  from  seven  batteries 
of  heavy  siege  guns  and  mortars,  that  by  the .  27th  the 
place  was  literally  a  mass  of  ruins,  amongst  which,  we  are 
told,  "two  men  could  not  walk  abreast."  On  that  day  ''a 
hundred  wagons  arrived  in  the  Williamite  camp  from 
Dublin,  laden  with  a  further  supply  of  ammunition  for  the 
siege  guns."  That  evening  the  enemy  by  grenades  set  on 
fire  the  fascines  of  the  Irish  breastwork  at  the  bridge,  and 
that  night,  under  cover  of  a  tremendous  bombardment, 


1  M'Cann. 


458 


THE  STOnr  OF  ICELAND. 


they .  succeeded  in  flinging  some  beams  over  the  broken 
arches,  and  partially  planking  them.  Next  morning — it 
was  Sunday,  the  28th  June  —  the  Irish  saw  with  conster- 
nation that  barely  a  few  planks  more  laid  on  would  com- 
plete the  bridge.  Their  own  few  cannon  were  now  nearly 
all  buried  in  the  ruined  masonry,  and  the  enemy  beyond 
had  battery  on  battery  trained  on  the  narrow  spot  —  it 
was  death  to  show  in  the  line  of  the  all  but  finished  cause- 
way ! 

Out  stepped  from  the  ranks  of  Maxwell's  regiment,  a 
sergeant  of  dragoons,  Custume  by  name.  "Are  there  ten 
men  here  who  will  die  with  me  for  Ireland  ? "  A  hundred 
eager  voices  shouted  Aye.  "  Then,''  said  he,  "  we  will 
save  Athlone ;  the  bridge  must  go  doivn'' 

Grasping  axes  and  crow-bars,  the  devoted  band  rushed 
from  behind  the  breastwork,  and  dashed  forward  upon 
the  newly-laid  beams.  A  peal  of  artillery  —  a  fusillade  of 
musketry  —  from  the  other  side,  and  the  space  was  swept 
with  grape-shot  and  bullets.  When  the  smoke  cleared 
away,  the  bodies  of  the  brave  Custume  and  his  ten  heroes 
lay  on  the  bridge,  riddled  with  balls.  They  had  torn  away 
some  of  the  beams,  but  every  man  of  the  eleven  had  per- 
ished ! 

Out  from  the  ranks  of  the  same  regiment  dashed  as 
man)'  more  volunteers.  There  are  eleven  men  more  who 
will  die  for  Ireland."  Again  across  the  bridge  rushed  the 
heroes.  Again  the  spot  is  swept  by  a  murderous  fusil- 
lade. The  smoke  lifts  from  the  scene ;  nine  of  the  second 
band  lie  dead  upon  the  bridge  —  two  survive,  but  the  work 
is  done  !  The  last  beam  is  gone :  Athlone  once  more  is 
saved ! 

I  am  not  repeating  a  romance  of  fiction,  but  narrating  a 
true  story,  recorded  by  lookers  on,  and  corroborated  in  all 
its  substance  by  writers  on  the  Williamite  and  on  the 
Jacobite  side.    When,  therefore,  young  Irishmen  read  iji 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRKLAXD, 


459 


Roroan  history  of  Horatius  Codes  and  his  comrades,  who 

kept  the  bridge 
*  In  the  brave  days  of  old," 

let  them  remember  that  the  authentic  annals  of  Ireland 
record  a  scene  of  heroism  not  dissimilar  in  many  of  its 
features,  not  less  glorious  in  aught !  And  when  they  read 
also  of  the  fabled  Roman  patriot  who  plunged  into  the 
abyss  at  the  forum,  to  save  the  city,  let  them  remember 
that  such  devotion,  not  in  fable,  but  in  fact,  has  been  still 
more  memorably  exhibited  by  Irishmen  ;  and  let  them 
honour  beyond  the  apocryphal  Curtius,  the  brave  Cus- 
tume  and  his  glorious  companions,  who  died  for  Ireland 
at  Athlone. 

The  town  was  saved  once  more  —  yet  awhile.  GinckeL 
thus  a  second  time  defeated  in  striving  to  cross  the  Shan- 
non, resolved  to  renew  his  approaches  over  the  bridge  by 
the  more  cautious  method  of  a  covered  walk,  or  ^  close 
gallery,'  and  to  support  the  new  mode  of  attack  by  several 
others  in  different  directions."  ^  The  whole  of  that  day  he 
cannonaded  the  Irish  town  with  great  violence,  '^as  1 
believe  never  town  was,"  writes  a  spectator.  Xevertheless, 
the  Irish,  burrowing  and  trenching  amidst  the  chaotic 
mass  of  ruins  and  piles  of  rubbish  once  called  the  town  of 
Athlone,  continued  to  form  new  defences  as  fast  as  the  okl 
were  levelled,  and  Ginckel  was  at  his  wit's  end  what  to 
rely  upon  if  his  "  close  gallery  "  should  fail.  A  council 
of  war  in  the  Williamite  camp  decided  that  on  the  morn- 
ing of  the  29th,  the  passage  of  the  river  should  be  a  third 
time  attempted,  and  in  greater  force  than  ever.  A  bridge 
of  boats  was  to  be  thrown  across  the  river  some  distance 
below  the  old  stone  structure,  and  it  occurred  to  some  one 
to  suggest  that  as  the  summer  had  been  exceedingly  dry. 


1  O'Callaghan's  Green  Book,  page  32. 


460 


THE  STOBY  OF  IE  ELAND. 


and  as  the  water  in  the  river  appeared  to  be  unprece- 
dentedly  low,  it  might  be  worth  while  to  try  sounding  for 
a  ford. 

This  hap-hazard  thought  —  this  apparently  fugitive  sug- 
gestion —  won  Athlone. 

"  Three  Danish  soldiers,  under  sentence  of  death  for 
some  crime,  were  offered  their  pardon  if  they  would  under- 
take to  try  the  river.  The  men  readily  consented,  and, 
putting  on  armour,  entered  at  three  several  places.  The 
English  in  the  trenches  were  ordered  to  fire  seemingly  at 
them,  but  in  reality  over  their  lieads,  Avhence  the  Irish 
naturally  concluded  them  to  be  deserters,  and  did  not  fire 
till  they  saw  them  returning,  when  the  English  by  their 
great  and  small  shot,  obliged  the  Irish  to  be  covered.  It 
was  discovered  that  the  deepest  part  of  the  river  did  not 
reach  their  breasts."  ^  Thereupon  it  was  decided  to  assail 
the  town  next  morning  suddenly  and  by  surprise  at  three 
points;  one  party  to  go  over  the  bridge  by  the  ''close 
gallery ;  "  a  second  to  cross  b}'  the  pontoons  or  boat-bridge  ; 
the  third,  by  one  of  the  fords.  Once  more  Mackay  was  to 
lead  the  assault,  which  was  fixed  for  ten  o'clock  next  morn- 
ing; again,  as  at  the  Boyne,  each  Williamite  soldier  was 
to  mount  a  green  bough  or  sprig  in  his  hat ;  and  this 
time  the  word  was  to  be  "  Kilkenny." 

That  night  a  deserter  swam  the  river  below  the  town, 
and  revealed  to  St.  Ruth  tliat  an  assault  was  to  be  made 
by  a  boat-bridge  and  close  galler\' "  early  next  morning ; 
and  lo  I  when  day  dawned,  the  Williamites  could  descry 
the  7nai7i  army  of  the  Irish  defiling  into  the  town,  and  de- 
tachments stationed  at  every  point  to  contest  the  assault 
which  was  to  have  been  "  a  surprise."  To  make  matters 
worse,  the  boats  were  not  ready  till  ten  o'clock,  instead  of 
at  six.    Nevertheless  the  assault  was  proceeded  with,  and 


1  Harris. 


THE  STORY  OF  IBELASl), 


461 


the  storm  of  grenades  began  to  fly.  It  had  been  decided 
to  begin  the  conflict  at  or  on  the  bridge,  close  to  the 
broken  arches,  where  (on  their  own  side)  the  English  had 
a  breastwork,  up  to  which  the  close  gallery  had  been 
advanced,  and  upon  the  attack  at  this  point  the  other 
operations  were  to  depend.  After  an  hour's  hot  work  the 
Irish  set  on  fire  the  fascines  of  the  English  breastwork. 
There  being  a  strong  breeze  blowing,  in  a  few  minutes 
the  flames  spread  rapidly ;  the  breastwork  had  to  be  aban- 
doned ;  the  "close  gallery  "  was  almost  destroyed ;  and  the 
storming  columns  were  called  off.  The  Williamite  assault 
upon  Athlone  a  third  time  had  proved  a  total  failure. 

Great  was  the  exultation  on  the  Irish  side  of  the  river 
at  the  triumphant  defeat  and  utter  abandonment  of  this, 
the  final  attempt,  as  they  regarded  it,  on  the  part  of  the 
foe.  After  waiting  till  near  five  o'clock  to  behold  the  last 
of  the  Williamites  called  to  the  rear,  and  every  other  sign 
of  defeat  exhibited  on  their  side,  St.  Ruth  drew  off  the 
victorious  Irish  army  to  the  camp  three  miles  distant,  and, 
over-confidently,  if  not  vaingloriously,  declaring  the  siege 
as  good  as  raised,  invited  the  resident  gentry  of  the  neigh- 
bourhood and  the  officers  of  tlie  army  to  a  grand  ball  at 
his  quarters  that  evening. 

Meanwhile  Ginckel,  a  prev  to  the  most  torturing  reflec- 
tions, wavered  between  a  hundred  conflicting  resolutions 
or  momentary  impulses.  At  last  he  decided  to  raise  the 
siege,  but  wishing  for  the  decision  of  a  council  to  shield 
him  somewhat  from  the  outer}'  he  apprehended  in  Dublin 
and  in  London,  a  meeting  was  held  to  consider  the  point. 
After  a  hot  and  bitter  disputation,  a  resolution,  at  first 
laughed  at  by  the  majority,  was  adopted  —  namelj',  to  try 
that  very  evening^  nay  that  very  hour^  a  sudden  dash  across 
the  river  by  the  fords^  as  (it  was  rightly  conjectured)  the 
Irish  would  now  be  off  their  guard.  As  a  last  refuge  from 
disgrace,  Ginckel  resolved  to  try  this  chance. 


TIIK  sroilY  OF  Hi  ELAND. 


Towards  six  o'clock  the  Irish  officer  on  guard  on  the 
Athlonc  side,  sent  word  to  the  General  (St.  Ruth)  that 
lie  thought  there  was  something  up  on  the  opposite  bank, 
and  begging  some  detachments  to  be  sent  in,  as  only  a 
few  companies  had  been  left  in  the  town.  St.  Ruth  re- 
plied by  a  sharp  and  testy  remark,  reflecting  on  the  cour- 
age of  the  officer,  to  the  effect,  that  he  was  frightened  b}^ 
fancy.  By  the  time  this  hurtful  answer  reached  liim,  the 
officer  saw  enough  to  convince  him  that  infallibly  an 
assault  was  about  to  be  made,  and  he  sent  with  all  speed 
to  the  camp  entreating  the  general  to  credit  the  fact.  St. 
Ruth  replied  by  saying  that  if  the  officer  in  charge  Avas 
afraid  of  such  attacks,  he  might  turn  over  the  command 
to  another.  Sarsfield  was  present  at  this  last  reply,  and 
he  at  once  judged  the  whole  situation  correctly.  He  im- 
plored St.  Ruth  not  to  treat  so  lightly  a  report  so  grave 
from  an  officer  of  undoubted  bravery.  The  Frenchman  — 
courageous,  energetic,  and  highly-gifted  as  he  unquestion- 
ably was  —  unfortunately  was  short-tempered,  imperious, 
and  vain.  He  and  Sarsfield  exchanged  hot  and  angry 
words ;  St.  Ruth  resenting  Sarsfield's  interference,  and 
intimating  that  the  latter  henceforth  should  ''know  his 
place.'*  While  yet  this  fatal  altercation  was  proceeding, 
an  aide-de-cainp  galloped  up  all  breathless  from  the  town  — 
the  English  were  across  the  river  and  into  the  defences  of 
Athlone !  Even  now  St.  Ruth's  overweening  self-confi- 
dence would  not  yield.  "  Then  let  us  drive  them  back 
again,"  was  his  answer,  at  the  same  time  directing  troops 
to  hurry  forward  for  that  purpose.  But  it  was  too  late. 
The  lodgment  had  been  made  in  force.  The  English  were 
now  in  the  defences.  The  walls  of  the  town  on  the  camp 
side  had  been  left  standing,  and  only  a  siege  could  now 
dispossess  the  new  occupants.    Athlone  was  lost  I  ^ 


1  Amongst  the  slain  on  the  Irish  side  in  this  siege  was  tlie  glorioua  old 
veteran,  Colonel  Ricliard  Grace,  who  was  governor  the  preceding  year. 


The  St  our  of  Ireland, 


CHAPTER  LXXI. 

THE  CULLODEN  OF  IRELAND."  HOW  AUGHRDI  WAS 
FOUGHT  AND  LOST.  A  STORY  OF  THE  BATTLE-FIELD  ; 
''THE  DOG  OF  AUGHRIM/'  OR,  FIDELITY  IN  DEATH  I 

T.  RUTH  fell  back  to  Ballinasloe,  on  Ginckel's 
road  to  Galway,  which  city  was  now  held  by  the 
Irish,  and  was  in  trnth  one  of  their  most  impor- 
tant possessions.  The  Frenchman  was  a  prey  to 
conscious  guilty  feeling.  He  knew  that  Sarsfield  held  him 
accountable  for  the  loss  of  Athlone,  and  his  pride  was 
painfully  mortified.  How  often  do  dire  events  from  trivial 
causes  spring !  This  estrangement  between  St.  Ruth  and 
Sarsfield  was  fated  to  affect  the  destinies  of  Ireland,  for 
to  it  may  be  traced  the  loss  of  the  battle'  of  Aughrim, 
as  we  shall  see. 

At  a  council  of  war  in  the  Irish  camp  it  was  at  first 
resolved  to  give  battle  in  the  strong  position  which  the- 
army  had  now  taken  up,  but  St.  Ruth  moved  off  to  Augli- 
rim,  about  three  miles  distant,  on  the  road  to  Galway. 
The  new  position  was  not  less  strong  that  that  w^hich  had 
just  been  quitted.  In  truth  its  selection,  and  the  uses  to 
which  St.  Ruth  turned  each  and  all  of  its  natural  advan- 
tages, showed  him  to  be  a  man  of  consummate  ability. 
Close  to  the  little  village  of  Aughrim  —  destined  to  give 


His  great  age  —  he  was  now  nearly  ninety  years  of  age  —  caused  him  to  he 
relieved  of  such  a  lahorious  position  in  this  siege,  hut  nothing  could  induce 
him  to  seek,  either  in  retirement  or  in  less  exposed  and  dangerous  duty, 
that  quiet  which  all  his  compeers  felt  to  be  the  old  man's  right.  He  would 
insist  on  remaining  in  the  thickest  of  the  fighting,  and  he  died  "  with  his 
harness  on  his  back."  He  was  one  of  the  most  glorious  characters  to  be 
met  with  in  Irish  history.  The  erudite  author  of  the  Green  Book  supplies 
a  deeply  interesting  sketch  of  his  life  and  career. 


!ii4 


THE  STOnr  OF  IRELAND. 


name  to  the  last  great  battle  between  Catholic  and  Protes- 
tant roj^alty  on  the  soil  of  Ireland  —  is  the  Hill  of  Kilcom- 
medan.  The  hill  slopes  gradually  and  smoothly  upward 
to  a  height  of  about  three  hundred  feet  from  its  base, 
running  lengthways  for  about  two  miles  from  north  to 
south.  On  its  east  side  or  slope,  looking  towards  the  way 
by  which  Ginckel  must  approach  on  his  march  westward 
to  Galway,  the  Irish  army  was  encamped,  having  on  its 
right  flank  the  pass  or  causeway  of  Urrachree,  and  its  left 
flank  resting  on  the  village  of  Aughrim.  A  large  morass 
lay  at  foot  of  Kilcommedan  (on  the  east,  sweeping  round 
the  northern  end  of  the  hill)  which  might  be  crossed  in 
summer  by  footmen,  but  was  impracticable  for  cavalry. 
Through  its  centre,  from  south  to  north,  ran  a  little 
stream,  which  with  winter  rains  flooded  all  the  surround- 
ing marsh.  Two  narrow  causeways,  passes,"  or  roads, 
ran  across  the  morass  to  the  hill ;  one  at  Urrachree,  the 
other  at  the  town  of  Aughrim  ;  the  latter  one  being  de- 
fended or  commanded  by  an  old  ruin,  Aughrim  Castle,  at 
the  hill  base.^  Along  the  slopes  of  the  hill,  parallel  with 
its  base,  ran  two  or  three  lines  of  whitethorn  hedge-rows, 
growing  out  of  thick  earth  fences,  affording  admirable 
position  and  protection  for  musketeers.  It  ma}^  be  ques- 
tioned if  the  genius  of  a  Wellington  could  have  devised 
or  directed  aught  that  St.  Ruth  had  not  done  to  turn 
every  feature  of  the  ground  and  every  iiieli  of  this  posi- 
tion to  advantage.  Yet  by  one  sin  of  omission  he  placed 
all  the  fortunes  of  the  day  on  the  liazard  of  his  own  life ; 
lie  communicated  his  plan  of  battle  to  no  one.  Sarsfield 
was  the  man  next  entitled  and  fitted  to  command,  in  tlie 


1  The  most  intelligible,  if  not  the  only  intelligible,  descriptions  of  thia 
battle-field  are  those  of  Mr.  M.  J.  M'Cann,  in  the  Harp  for  June,  1859  ;  and 
in  a  work  recently  issued  in  America,  Battle-Jiekls  of  Treland,  unquestiona- 
bly the  most  attractive  and  faithful  narrative  hitherto  published  of  the 
Jacobite  struggle. , 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAS U. 


event  of  aii^'tliiiig  befalling  the  general ;  j^et  he  in  par- 
ticular was  kept  from  any  knowledge  of  the  tactics  or 
strategy  upon  which  the  battle  was  to  turn.  Indeed  he  was 
posted  at  a  point  critical  and  important  enough  in  some 
senses,  yet  away  from,  and  out  of  sight  of  the  part  of  the 
field  where  the  main  struggle  was  to  take  place ;  and  St. 
Ruth  rather  hurtfully  gave  him  imperative  instructions 
not  to  stir  from  the  position  thus  assigned  him,  without 
a  written  order  from  himself.  "  At  Aughrim,"  saj^  s  an  in- 
telligent Protestant  literary  periodical,  "three  apparent 
accidents  gave  the  victory  to  Ginckel.  The  musketeers 
defending  the  pass  at  the  old  castle  found  themselves  sup- 
plied with  cannon  balls  instead  of  bullets  ;  the  flank  move- 
ment of  a  regiment  was  mistaken  for  a  retreat ;  and  St. 
Ruth  lost  his  life  by  a  cannon  shot."  ^  The  last  mentioned, 
which  was  really  the  accident  that  wrested  undoubted 
victory  from  the  Irish  grasp,  would  have  had  no  such  dis- 
astrous result  had  St.  Ruth  confided  his  plan  of  battle  to 
his  lieutenant-general,  and  taken  him  heartily  and  thor- 
oughly into  joint  command  on  the  field. 

I  know  of  no  account  of  this  battle,  which,  within  the 
same  space,  exhibits  so  much  completeness,  clearness,  and 
simplicity  of  narration,  as  Mr.  Haverty's,  which  accord- 
ingly I  here  borrow  with  very  little  abridgment :  — 

"  The  advanced  guards  of  the  Williamites  came  in  sight 
of  the  Irish  on  the  11th  of  July,  and  the  following  morn- 
ing, which  was  Sunday,  12th  of  July,  1691,  while  the  Irish 
army  was  assisting  at  mass,  the  whole  force  of  the  enemy 
drew  up  in  line  of  battle  on  the  high  ground  to  the  east 
beyond  the  morass.  As  nearly  as  the  strength  of  the  two 
armies  can  be  estimated,  that  of  the  Irish  was  about  fifteen 
thousand  horse  and  foot,  and  that  of  the  Williamites  from 


^  Dublin  University  Magazine  for  February,  1867.  ~"  Some  Episodes  of 
the  Irish  Jacobite  Wars." 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELANJJ, 


twenty  to  twenty-five  thousand,  the  latter  having  besides 
a  numerous  artillery,  while  the  Irish  had  but  nine  field 
pieces. 

"  Ginckel,  knowing  his  own  great  superiority  in  artillery, 
hoped  by  the  aid  of  that  arm  alone  to  dislodge  the  Irish 
centre  force  from  their  advantageous  ground ;  and  as 
quickly  as  his  guns  could  be  brought  into  position,  he 
opened  fire  upon  the  enemy.  He  also  directed  some  cav- 
alry movements  on  his  left  at  the  pass  of  Urrachree,  but 
with  strict  orders  that  the  Irish  should  not  be  followed 
beyond  the  '  pass,'  lest  any  fighting  there  should  force  on 
a  general  engagement,  for  which  he  had  not  then  made  up 
his  mind.  His  orders  on  this  point,  however,  were  not 
punctually  obeyed  ;  the  consequence  being  some  hot  skir- 
mishing, which  brought  larger  bodies  into  action,  until 
about  three  o'clock,  when  the  Williamites  retired  from  the 
pass. 

"  Ginckel  now  held  a  council  of  wai:,  and  the  prevalent 
opinion  seemed  to  be  that  the  attack  should  be  deferred 
until  an  early  hour  next  morning,  but  tlie  final  decision  of 
the  council  was  for  an  immediate  battle.  At  five  o'clock 
accordingly,  the  attack  was  renewed  at  Urrachree,  and  for 
an  hour  and  a  half  there  was  considerable  fighting  in  that 
quarter ;  several  attempts  to  force  tJie  pass  having  been 
made  in  the  interval,  and  the  Irish  cavalry  continuing  to 
maintain  their  ground  gallantly,  although  against  double 
their  numbers. 

"  At  length,  at  half-past  six,  Ginckel,  having  previously 
caused  the  morass  in  front  of  the  Irish  centre  to  be 
sounded,  ordered  his  infantry  to  advance  on  the  point 
where  the  line  of  the  fences  at  the  Irisli  side  projected 
most  into  the  marsh,  and  wliere  the  morass  was,  conse- 
quently, narrowest.  This,  it  appears,  was  in  the  Irisli 
right  centre,  or  in  the  direction  of  Urrachree.  The  four 
regiments  of  colonels  Erie,  Herbert,  Creighton,  and  Brewer 


THE  STOBT  OF  Hi  ELAND. 


467 


Were  the  first  to  wade  tlirougli  the  mud  and  water,  and  to 
advance  against  the  nearest  of  the  hedges,  where  they  were 
received  with  a  smart  fire  by  the  Irish,  who  then  retired 
behind  their  next  line  of  hedges,  to  which  the  assailants 
in  their  turn  approached.  The  WiUiamite  infantry  were 
thus  gradually  draw^n  from  one  line  of  fences  to  another, 
up  the  slope  from  the  morass,  to  a  greater  distance  than 
was  contemplated  in  the  plan  of  attack,  according  to  which 
they  were  to  hold  their  ground  near  the  morass  until  they 
could  be  supported  by  reinforcements  of  infantry  in  the 
rear,  and  by  cavalry  on  the  flanks.  The  Irish  retired  by 
such  short  distances,  that  the  Williamites  pursued  what 
they  considered  to  be  an  advantage,  until  they  found  them- 
selves face  to  face  with  the  main  line  of  the  Irish,  who  now 
charged  them  in  front ;  while  by  passages  cut  specially  for 
such  a  purpose  through  the  line  of  hedges  by  St.  Ruth, 
the  Irish  cavalry  rushed  down  with  irresistible  force  and 
attacked  them  in  the  flanks.  The  effect  was  instantaneous. 
In  vain  did  Colonel  Erie  endeavour  to  encourage  his  men 
by  crying  out  that  '  there  was  no  way  to  come  off  but  to 
be  brave.'  They  were  thrown  into  total  disorder,  and  fled 
towards  the  morass,  the  Irish  cavalry  cutting  them  down 
in  the  rear,  and  the  infantry  pouring  in  a  deadly  fire,  un- 
til they  were  driven  beyond  the  quagmire,  which  separated 
the  two  armies.  Colonels  Erie  and  Herbert  were  taken 
prisoners;  but  the  former,  after  being  taken  and  retaken, 
and  receiving  some  wounds,  was  finally  rescued. 

"  Whilst  this  was  going  forward  towards  the  Irish  right, 
several  other  Williamite  regiments  crossed  the  bog  nearer 
to  Aughrim,  and  were  in  like  manner  repulsed ;  but,  not 
'  having  ventured  among  the  Irish  hedges,  their  loss  was  not 
so  considerable,  although  they  were  pursued  so  far  in  their 
retreat,  that  the  Irish,  says  Story,  'got  almost  in  a  line 
with  some  of  our  great  guns,'  or,  in  other  words,  had  ad- 
vanced into  the  English  battle-ground.    It  wa^  no  wonder 


468 


TIJE  STOnr  OF  lUKLAS^D, 


that  at  tins  moment  St.  Ruth  should  have  exclaimed  with 
national  enthusiasm,  '  The  day  is  ours,  mes  enfants 

The  manoeuvres  of  tlie  Dutch  general  on  the  other 
side  evinced  consummate  ability,  and  the  peril  of  his  pres- 
ent position  obliged  him  to  make  desperate  efforts  to  re- 
trieve it.  His  army  being  much  more  numerous  than  that 
of  the  Irish,  he  could  afford  to  extend  his  left  wing  consid- 
erabl}'  beyond  their  right,  and  this  causing  a  fear  that  he 
intended  to  flank  them  at  that  side,  St.  Ruth  ordered  the 
second  line  of  his  left  to  march  to  the  right,  the  officer 
who  received  the  instructions  taking  with  him  also  a  bat- 
talion from  the  centre,  which  left  a  weak  point  not  unob- 
served by  the  enemy.  St.  Ruth  had  a  fatal  confidence  in 
the  natural  strength  of  his  left,  owing  to  the  great  extent 
of  bog,  and  the  extreme  narrowness  of  the  causeway  near 
Aughrim  Castle.  The  Williamite  commander  perceived 
this  confidence,  and  resolved  to  take  advantage  of  it. 
Hence  his  movement  at  the  opposite  extremity  of  his  line, 
which  was  a  mere  feint,  the  troops  which  he  sent  to  his 
left  not  firing  a  shot  during  the  day,  while  some  of  the 
best  regiments  of  the  Irish  were  drawn  away  to  watch 
them.  The  point  of  weakening  the  Irish  left  having  been 
thus  gained,  the  object  of  doing  so  soon  became  apparent. 
A  movement  of  the  Williamite  cavalry  to  the  causeway  at 
Aughrim  was  observed.  Some  horsemen  were  seen  cross- 
ing the  narrow  part  of  the  causeway  with  great  difficulty, 
being  scarcely  able  to  ride  two  abreast.  St.  Ruth  still 
believed  that  pass  impregnable,  as  indeed  it  would  have 
been,  but  for  the  mischances  which  we  have  yet  to  men- 
tion, and  he  is  reported  to  have  exclaimed,  when  he  saw 
the  enemy  's  cavalry  scrambling  over  it,  '  They  are  brave 
fellows,  't  is  a  pit)^  they  should  be  so  exposed.'  They 
were  not,  however,  so  exposed  to  destruction  as  he  then 
imagined.  Artillery  had  come  to  their  aid,  and  as  the 
men  crossed,  they  began  to  form  in  squadrons  on  the  firm 


THE  STOUT  OF  IRhlLAXD. 


469 


ground  near  the  old  castle.  What  were  the  garrison  of 
the  castle  dohig  at  this  time  ?  and  what  the  reserve  of  cav- 
alry beyond  the  castle  to"  the  extreme  left  ?  As  to  the 
former,  an  unlucky  circumstance  rendered  their  efforts 
nugatory.  It  was  found  on  examining  the  ammunition 
with  which  they  had  been  supplied,  that  while  the  men 
were  armed  with  French  firelocks,  the  balls  that  had  been 
served  to  them  were  cast  for  English  muskets,  of  wdiich 
the  calibre  was  larger,  and  that  they  were  consequently  use- 
less !  In  this  emergency  the  men  cut  the  small  globular 
buttons  from  their  jackets,  and  used  them  for  bullets,  but 
their  fire  was  ineffective,  however  briskly  it  was  sustained, 
and  few  of  the  enemy's  horse  crossing  the  causeway 
were  hit.  This  was  but  one  of  the  mischances  connected 
with  the  unhappy  left  of  St.  Ruth's  position.  We  have 
seen  how  an  Irish  officer,  when  ordered  with  reserves  to 
the  right  wing,  removed  a  battalion  from  the  left  centre. 
This  error  ^  was  immediately  followed  by  the  crossing  of 
the  morass  at  that  weakened  point  by  three  Williamite 
regiments,  who  employed  hurdles  to  facilitate  their  pas- 
sage, and  who,  meeting  with  a  comparatively  feeble  resist- 
ance at  the  front  line  of  fences,  succeeded  in  making  a 
lodgment  in  a  corn  field  on  the  Irish  side." 

It  was,  however  —  as  the  historian  just  quoted  remarks 
in  continuation  —  still  very  easy  to  remedy  the  effects  of 
these  errors  or  mishaps  thus  momentarily  threatening  to 
render  questionable  the  victory  already  substantially  won 
by  the  Irish ;  and  St.  Ruth,  for  the  purpose  of  so  doing 
—  and,  in  fact,  delivering  the  coujj  de  grace  to  the  beaten 
foe  —  left  his  position  of  observation  in  front  of  the  camp 
on  the  crest  of  the  hill,  and,  placing  himself  in  joyous 
pride  at  the  head  of  a  cavalry  brigade,  hastened  down  the 


1  Many  Irish  authorities  assert  it  wavS  no  error,"  but  downright  treason. 
The  officer  who  perpetrated  it  being  the  traitor  LuttreH,  subsequently  dis- 
covered to  have  long  been  working  out  the  betrayal  of  tlie  cause. 


470 


THE  STOHY  OF  IRELANI). 


slope  to  charge  the  confused  bodies  of  Williamite  horse 
gaining  a  foothold  below.  Those  who  saw  him  at  this 
moment  say  that  his  face  was  aglow  with  enthusiasm  and 
triumph.  He  had,  as  he  thought,  at  last  vindicated  his 
name  and  fame  ;  he  had  shown  what  St.  Ruth  could  do. 
And,  indeed,  never  for  an  instant  had  he  doubted  the  re- 
sult of  this  battle,  or  anticipated  for  it  any  other  issue 
than  a  victory.  He  had  attired  himself,  we  are  told,  in  his 
most  gorgeous  uniform,  wearing  all  his  decorations  and 
costly  ornaments,  and  constantly  told  those  around  him 
that  he  was  to-day  about  to  win  a  battle  that  would  wrest 
Ireland  from  William's  grasp.  About  half-way  down  the 
hill  he  halted  a  moment  to  give  some  directions  to  the 
artillerymen  at  one  of  the  field  batteries.  Then,  drawing 
his  sword,  and  giving  the  word  to  advance  for  a  charge,  he 
exclaimed  to  his  officers :  "  They  are  beaten,  gentlemen  ; 
let  us  drive  them  back  to  the  gates  of  Dublin."  With  a 
cheer,  rising  above  the  roar  of  the  artillery  —  which,  from 
the  other  side,  was  playing  furiously  on  this  decisive  Irish 
advance  —  the  squadron  made  reply;  when,  suddenly, 
louder  still,  at  its  close,  there  arose  a  cry  —  a  shriek  — 
from  some  one  near  the  general.  All  eyes  were  turned 
upon  the  spot,  and  for  an  instant  many  failed  to  discern 
the  cause  for  such  a  startling  utterance.  There  sat  the 
glittering  uniformed  figure  upon  his  charger.  It  needed, 
with  some,  a  second  glance  to  detect  the  horrible  catas- 
trophe that  had  befallen.  There  sat  the  body  of  St.  Ruth 
indeed,  but  it  was  his  lifeless  corpse  —  a  headless  trunk. 
A  cannon  shot  from  the  Williamite  batteries  had  struck 
the  head  from  his  body,  as  if  the  Tyburn  axe  and  block 
had  done  their  fearful  work.  St.  Rutli,  the  vain,  the 
brave,  was  no  more ! 

The  staff  crowded  around  the  fallen  commander  in  sad 
dismay.  The  brigade  itself,  ignorant  at  first  of  the  true 
nature  of  what  happened,  but  conscious  that  some  serious 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELASD, 


471 


disaster  had  occurred,  halted  in  confusion.  Indecision 
and  confusion  in  the  face  of  the  enemy,  and  under  fire  of 
his  batteries,  has  ever  but  one  result.  The  brigade  broke, 
and  rode  to  the  right.  Xo  one  knew  on  whom  the  com- 
mand devolved.  Sarsfield  was  next  in  rank;  but  every 
one  knew  liim  to  be  posted  at  a  distant  part  of  the  field, 
and  it  was  unhappily  notorious  that  he  had  not  been  made 
acquahited  with  any  of  the  lost  general's  plan.  This  in- 
decision and  confusion  was  not  long  spreading  from  the 
cavahy  brigade  which  St.  Ruth  had  been  leading  to  other 
bodies  of  the  troops.  The  Williamites  plainly  perceived 
that  something  fatal  had  happened  on  the  Irish  side, 
which,  if  taken  advantage  of  promptly,  might  give  them 
victory  in  the  very  moment  of  defeat.  They  lialted.  ral- 
lied, and  returned.  A  general  attack  in  full  force  en  all 
points  was  ordered.  Still  the  Irish  centre  and  right  wing- 
maintained  their  ground  obstinately,  and  the  fight  was 
renewed  with  as  much  vigour  as  ever.  The  Irish  infantry 
were  so  hotly  engaged,  that  they  were  not  aware  either 
of  the  death  of  St.  Ruth,  or  of  the  flight  of  the  cavalry, 
until  they  themselves  were  almost  surrounded.  A  panic, 
and  confused  flight  were  the  result.  The  cavalry  of  the 
right  wing,  who  were  the  first  in  action  that  day.  were  the 
last  to  quit  their  ground.  Sarsfield,  with  the  reserve  horse 
of  the  centre,  had  to  retire  with  the  rest  without  striking 
one  blow,  '  although,'  says  the  Williamite  captain  Parker, 
'he  had  the  greatest  and  best  part  of  the  cavalry  with  him.* 
St.  Ruth  fell  about  sunset;  and  about  nine,  after  three 
hours'  hard  fighting,  the  last  of  the  Irish  army  had  left 
the  field.  The  cavalry  retreated  along  the  high  road  to 
Loughrea,  and  the  infantry,  who  mostly  flung  away  their 
arms,  fled  to  a  large  red  bog  on  their  left,  where  great 
numbers  of  them  were  massacred  unarmed  and  in  cold 
blood.;  but  a  thick  misty  rain  coming  on,  and  the  night 
setting  in,  the  pursuit  was  soon  relinquished." 


472 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAXD, 


The  peasantry  to  this  day  point  out  a  small  gorge  on 
the  hill  side,  still  called  "  Gleann-na-Fola/'  ^  where  two  of 
the  Irish  regiments,  deeming  flight  vain,  or  scorning  to 
fly,  halted,  and  throughout  the  night  waited  their  doom 
in  sullen  determination.  There  they  were  found  in  the 
morning,  and  ivere  slaughtered  to  a  man.  The  slogan  of 
the  conqueror  was :    No  quarter."  ^ 

Above  five  hundred  prisoners,  with  thirty-two  pairs  of 
colours,  eleven  standards,  and  a  large  quantity  of  small 
arms,  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  victors.  The  English  loss 
in  killed  and  wounded  was  about  three  thousand ;  the 
Irish  lost  over  four  thousand,  chiefly  in  the  flight,  as  the 
Williamites  gave  no  quarter,  and  the  wounded,  if  they 
were  not,  in  comparative  mercy,  shot  as  they  lay  on  the 
fields  were  allowed  to  perish  unfriended  where  they  fell. 

To  the  music  of  one  of  the  most  plaintive  of  our  Irish 
melodies  —  "  The  Lamentation  of  Aughrim  "  —  Moore  (a 


1  The  Glen  of  Slaughter.  —  The  Bloody  Glen. 

2  Moore,  who  seems  to  have  been  powerfully  affected  by  the  whole  story 
of  Aughrim  —  "the  Culloden  of  Ireland." — is  said  to  have  found  in  this 
mournful  tragedy  the  subject  of  his  exquisite  song  "  After  the  Battle  :  "  — 

**  Night  closed  around  the  conqueror's  way, 

And  lightnings  showed  the  distant  hill, 
Where  those  who  lost  that  dreadful  day 

Stood  few  and  faint,  but  fearless  still ! 
The  soldier's  hope,  the  patriot's  zeal, 

For  ever  dimmed,  for  ever  crossed  — 
Oh  !  who  shall  say  what  heroes  feel, 

When  all  but  life  and  honour 's  lost  ? 

*'  The  last  sad  hour  of  freedom's  dream 

And  valour's  task  moved  slowly  hy, 
While  mute  they  watched,  till  morning's  beam 

Should  rise  and  give  them  light  to  die. 
There 's  yet  a  world  where  souls  are  free, 

Where  tyrants  taint  not  nature's  bliss: 
If  death  that  world's  bright  o|)'ning  be. 

Oh  !  who  would  live  a  slave  in  this  ?  '' 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAXIJ. 


473 


becond  time  touched  by  this  sad  theme)  has  wedded  the 
well-known  verses  here  quoted :  — 

"  Forget  not  the  field  where  they  perished  — 
The  truest,  the  last  of  the  brave  , 
All  gone  —  and  the  bright  hope  they  cherished 
Gone  with  them,  and  quenched  in  theu'  grave. 

Oh  I  could  we  from  death  but  recover 

Those  hearts,  as  they  bounded  before, 
In  the  face  of  high  Heaven  to  fight  over 

That  combat  for  freedom  once  more  ;  — 

"  Could  the  chain  for  an  instant  be  riven 
AVhich  Tyranny  flung  round  us  then  — 
Oh  !  —  't  is  not  in  Man,  nor  in  Heaven, 
To  let  Tyi-anny  bind  it  again  I 

But 't  is  past ;  and  though  blazoned  in  story 

The  name  of  our  victor  may  be. 
Accurst  is  the  march  of  that  glory 

Which  treads  o'er  the  hearts  of  the  free  ! 

"  Far  dearer  the  grave  or  the  prison, 
Illumed  by  one  patriot  name, 
Than  the  trophies  of  all  who  have  risen 
On  Liberty's  ruins  to  fame  !  " 

We  cannot  take  leave  of  the  field  of  Aughrim  and  pass 
unnoticed  an  episode  connected  with  that  scene  which 
may  well  claim  a  place  in  history  ;  a  true  story,  which,  it 
it  rested  on  any  other  authority  than  that  of  the  hostile 
and  unsympathising  Williamite  chaplain,  might  be  deenied 
either  the  creation  of  poetic  fancy  or  the  warmly  tinged 
picture  of  exaggerated  fact. 

The  bodies  of  the  fallen  Irish,  as  already  mentioned, 
were  for  the  most  part  left  unburied  on  the  ground,  '-a 
prey  to  the  birds  of  the  air  and  the  beasts  of  the  field." 
"There  is,"  says  the  Williamite  chronicler,  ^^a  true  and 


474 


TILE  STOnr  OF  IRK  LAM), 


remarkable  story  of  a  greyhound,^  belonging  to  an  Irish 
officer.  The  gentlenjan  was  killed  and  stripped  ii]  the 
battle,^  whose  body  the  dog  remained  by  night  and  day; 
and  though  he  fed  upon  other  corpses  with  the  rest  of  the 
dogs,  yet  he  would  not  allow  them  or  anything  else  to 
touch  that  of  his  master.  When  all  the  corpses  were  con- 
sumed, the  other  dogs  departed ;  but  this  one  used  to  go 
in  the  night  to  the  adjacent  villages  for  food,  and  pres- 
ently return  to  the  place  where  his  master's  bones  only 
were  then  lefto  And  thus  he  continued  (from  July  when 
the.  battle  was  fought)  till  January  following,  when  one  of 
Colonel  Foulkes's  soldiers,  being  quartered  nigh  at  hand, 
and  going  that  way  by  chance,  the  dog  fearing  he  came  to 
disturb  his  master  s  bones^  flew  upon  the  soldier,  who,  being 
surprised  at  the  suddenness  of  the  thing,  unslung  his 
piece  then  upon  his  back,  and  shot  the  poor  dog."  ^  "  He 
expired,''  adds  Mr.  O'Gallaghan,  "  with  the  same  fidelity 
to  the  remains  of  his  unfortunate  master,  as  that  master 
had  shown  devotion  to  the  cause  of  his  unhappy  country. 
In  the  history  of  nations  there  are  few  spectacles  more 
entitled  to  the  admiration  of  the  noble  mind  and  the  sym- 
pathy of  the  generous  and  feeling  heart,  than  the  fate  of 
the  gallant  men  and  the  faithful  dog  of  Aughrim."  ^ 

1  It  was  a  wolf-hound  or  wolf-dog. 
Meaning  to  say,  killed  in  the  battle  and  stripjied  after  it  by  the  AVil- 
liainite  camp-followers,  with  whom  stripping  and  robbing  the  slain  wa^  a 
(common  practice.  They  did  not  spare  even  the  corpse  of  their  own  lieu- 
tenant-colonel, the  Right  Rev.  Dr.  Walker,  Protestant  Biehop  of  Derry, 
which  they  stripped  naked  at  the  Boyne. 

3  Story's  Cont.  Imp.  Hist,  page  147. 

^  Qi'een  Book,  page  459. 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND,  4iO 


CHAPTER  LXXIL 

HOW  GLORIOUS  LIMERICK  ONCE  MORE  BRAVED  THE  OR- 
DEAL. HOW  AT  LENGTH  A  TREATY  AND  CAPITULATION 
WERE  AGREED  UPON.  HOW  SARSFIELD  AND  THE  IRISH 
ARMY  SAILED  INTO  EXILE. 

[ALWAY  surrendered  on  favourable  terms  ten 
days  after  the  battle.  Sligo  also,  the  last 
western  garrison,  succumbed  soon  after,  and 
its  governor,  the  brave  Sir  Teige  O'Regan,  the 
hero  of  Charlemont,  marched  his  six  hundred  survivors 
southward  to  Limerick." 

"  Thus  once  more  all  eyes  and  hearts  in  the  British 
Islands  were  turned  towards  the  well-known  city  of  the 
lower  Shannon."  ^ 

On  the  25th  of  August,  Ginckel,  reinforced  by  all  the 
troops  he  could  gather  in  Avith  safety,  invested  the  place 
on  three  sides.  It  appears  he  had  powers,  and  indeed 
urgent  directions,  from  William  long  previously,  to  let  no 
hesitation  in  granting  favourable  terms  keep  him  from 
ending  the  war,  if  it  could  be  ended  by  such  means,  and 
it  is  said  he  apprehended  serious  censure  for  not  having 
proclaimed  such  dispositions  before  he  assaulted  Athlonc. 
He  now  resolved  to  use  without  stint  the  powers  given  t(» 
him,  in  the  anxious  hope  of  thereby  averting  the  necessity 
of  trying  to  succeed  where  William  himself  had  failed  — 
beneath  the  unconquered  walls  of  Limerick. 

Accordingly,  a  proclamation  was  issued  by  Ginckel. 
offering  a  full  and  free  pardon  of  all  treasons  "  (so  called 
—  meaning  thereby  loyalty  to  the  king,  and  resistance  of 


1  M'Gee. 


476 


THE  STOlir  OF  in  ELAN  IJ. 


the  foreign  emissaries),  with  restoration  for  all  to  their 
estates  '^forfeited"  by  such  "treason,"  and  employment 
in  his  majesty's  service  for  all  who  would  accept  it,  if  the 
Irish  army  would  abandon  the  war. 

It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  this  proclamation 
developed  on  the  instant  a  "peace  party"  within  the  Irish 
lines.  Not  even  the  most  sanguine  could  now  hope  to 
snatch  the  crown  from  William's  head,  and  replace  it  on 
that  of  the  fugitive  James.  For  what  object,  therefore, 
if  not  simply  to  secure  honourable  terms,  should  they  pro- 
long the  struggle  ?  And  did  not  this  proclamation  afford 
a  fair  and  reasonable  basis  for  negotiation?  The  Anglo- 
Irish  Catholic  nobles  and  gentry,  tvhose  estates  wer^e  thus 
offered  to  be  secured  to  them^  may  well  be  pardoned,  if  they 
exhibited  weakness  at  this  stage.  To  battle  further  was, 
in  their  judgment,  to  peril  all  for  a  shadow. 

Nevertheless,  the  national  party,  led  by  Sarsfield,  pre- 
vailed, and  Ginckel's  summons  to  surrender  was  courte- 
ously but  firmly  refused.  Once  more  glorious  Limerick 
was  to  brave  the  fiery  ordeal.  Sixty  guns,  none  of  less 
than  twelve  pounds  calibre,  opened  their  deadly  fire 
against  it.  An  English  fieet  ascended  the  river,  hurling 
its  missiles  right  and  left.  Bombardment  by  land  and 
water  showered  destruction  upon  the  city  —  in  vain  I 
Ginckel  now  gave  up  all  hope  of  reducing  the  place  by 
assault,  and  resolved  to  turn  the  siege  into  a  blockade. 
Starvation  must,  in  tinie,  effect  what  fire  and  sword  had 
so  often  and  so  vainly  tried  to  accomplish.  The  treason 
of  an  Anglo-Irish  officer  long  suspected,  Luttrell,  betrayed 
to  Ginckel  the  pass  over  the  Shannon  above  the  city ;  and 
one  morning  the  Irish,  to  their  horror,  beheld  the  foe 
upon  the  Clare  side  of  the  river.  Ginckel  again  offered  to 
grant  almost  any  terms,  if  the  city  would  but  cajntulate ; 
for  even  still  he  judged  it  ratlier  a  lorlorn  chance  to  await 
its  capture.    The  announcement  of  this  offer  placed  fur- 


Tnr.  STOBY  OF  IRKLAXn. 


4T7 


ther  resistance  out  of  the  question.  It  Avas  plain  there 
was  a  party  within  the  walls  so  impressed  with  the  mad- 
ness of  refusing  such  terms,  that,  any  moment,  they  might, 
of  themselves,  attempt  to  hand  over  the  city. 

Accordingly,  on  the  23d  September  (1691) — after  a 
day  of  bloody  struggle  from  early  dawn  — the  Irish  gave 
the  signal  for  a  parley,  and  a  cessation  of  arms  took  place. 
Favourable  as  were  the  terms  offered,  and  even  though 
Sarsfield  now  assented  to  accepting  them,  the  news  that 
the  struggle  was  to  be  ended,  was  received  by  the  soldiers 
and  citizens  with  loud  and  bitter  grief.  Tliey^ran  to  the 
ramparts,  from  which  they  so  often  had  hurled  the  foe, 
and  broke  their  swords  in  pieces.  "  Muskets  that  had 
scattered  fire  and  death  amidst  the  British  grenadiers, 
were  broken  in  a  frenzy  of  desperation,  and  the  tough 
shafts  of  pikes  that  had  resisted  William's  choicest  cav- 
alry, crashed  across  the  knees  of  maddened  rapparees." 
The  citizens,  too,  ran  to  the  walls,  with  the  arms  they  had 
treasured  proudly  as  mementos  of  the  last  year's  glorious 
struggle,  and  shivered  them  into  fragments,  exclaiming 
with  husky  voices :  "  We  need  them  now  no  longer.  Ire- 
la7id  is  no  more  !  " 

On  the  26th  September  the  negotiations  were  opened, 
hostages  were  exchanged,  and  Sarsfield  and  Major-General 
Wauchop  dined  with  Ginckel  in  the  English  camp.  The 
terms  of  capitulation  were  settled  soon  after;  but  the 
Irish,  happily  —  resolved  to  leave  no  pretext  for  subse- 
quent repudiation  of  Ginckel's  treat3%  even  though  he 
showed  them  his  formal  powers  —  demanded  that  the  lords 
justices  should  come  down  from  Dublin  and  ratify  the 
articles.  This  was  done ;  and  on  the  3d  of  October, 
1691,  the  several  contracting  parties  met  in  full  state  at  a 
spot  on  the  Clare  side  of  the  river,  to  sign  and  exchange 
the  treaty.  That  memorable  spot  is  marked  by  a  large 
stone,  which  remains  to  this  day,  proudly  guarded  and 


THE  STOUT  OF  lUKLAXT), 


preserved  by  the  people  of  that  city,  for  whom  it  is  a 
monument  more  glorious  than  the  Titan  arch  for  Rome. 
The  visitor  who  seeks  it  on  the  Shannon  side,  needs  but 
to  name  the  object  of  his  search,  when  a  hundred  eager 
volunteers,  their  faces  all  radiant  with  pride,  will  point 
him  out  that  memorial  of  Irish  honour  and  heroism, 
that  silent  witness  of  English  troth — puniea  fides  —  the 
Treaty  Stone  of  Limerick." 

The  treaty  consisted  of  military  articles,  or  clauses, 
twenty-nine  in  number;  and  civil  articles,  thirteen.  Set 
out  in  all  the  formal  and  precise  language  of  the  original 
document,  those  forty-two  articles  would  occupy  a  great 
space.  They  were  substantially  as  follows :  The  military 
articles  provided  that  all  persons  willing  to  expatriate 
themselves,  as  well  officers  and  soldiers,  as  rapparees  and 
volunteers,  should  have  free  liberty  to  do  so,  to  any  place 
beyond  seas,  except  England  and  Scotland;  that  they 
might  depart  in  whole  bodies,  companies,  or  parties ;  that, 
if  plundered  by  the  way,  William's  government  should 
make  good  their  loss  ;  that  fifty  ships,  of  two  hundred 
tons  each,  should  be  provided  for  their  transportation,  be- 
sides two  men-of-war  for  the  principal  officers ;  that  the 
garrison  of  Limerick  might  march  out  with  all  their  arms, 
guns,  and  baggage,  colours  flying,  drums  beating,  and 
matches  lighting !  The  garrison  of  Limerick,  moreover, 
were  to  be  at  liberty  to  take  away  any  six  brass  guns 
they  might  choose,  with  two  mortars,  and  half  the  ammu- 
nition in  the  place.  It  was  also  agreed  that  those  who  so 
wished  might  enter  the  service  of  William,  retaining  their 
rank  and  pay. 

The  civil  articles  were  thirteen  in  number.  Article  I. 
guaranteed  to  members  of  that  denomination  remaining  in 
the  kingdom,  ^such  privileges  in  the  exercise  of  their  reli- 
gion as  are  consistent  with  the  law  of  Ireland,  or  as  they 
enjoyed  in  the  reign  of  King  Charles  the  Second , '  this 


THE  .sTOnr  OF  TUFA. AND. 


479 


article  further  provided  that,  'theh*  majesties,  as  soon  as 
their  affairs  will  permit  them  to  summon  a  parliament  in 
this  kingdom,  will  endeavour  the  said  Roman  Catholics 
such  further  security  i  i  that  particular  as  may  preserve 
them  from  any  disturbance.'"  Article  II.  guaranteed 
pardon  and  protection  to  all  who  had  served  King  James, 
on  taking  the  oath  of  allegiance  prescribed  in  Article  IX., 
as  follows :  — 

"  I,  A.  B.,  do  solemnly  promise  and  swear  that  I  will  be  faithful 
and  bear  true  allegiapce  to  their  majesties,  King  William  and  Queen 
Maiy  ;  so  help  me  God." 

Articles  III.,  IV.,  V.,  and  VL,  extended  the  provisions 
of  Articles  I.  and  II.  to  merchants  and  other  classes  of 
men.  Article  VII.  permits  "  every  nobleman  and  gentle- 
man comprised  in  the  said  articles "  to  carry  side  arms, 
and  keep  "a  gun  in  their  houses."  Article  VIII.  gives 
the  right  of  removing  goods  and  chattels  without  search. 
Article  IX.  is  as  follows  :  — 

"The  oath  to  be  administered  to  such  Roman  Catholics  as  submit 
to  their  majesties'  government  shall  be  the  oath  aforesaid,  and  no 
other.  ' 

Article  X.  guarantees  that  "no  person  or  persons  who 
shall  hereafter  break  these  articles,  or  any  of  them,  shall 
thereby  make  or  cause  any  other  person  or  persons  to  for- 
feit or  lose  the  benefit  of  them."  Articles  XI.  and  XII. 
relate  to  the  ratification  of  the  articles  within  eight 
months  or  sooner.*'  Article  XIII.  refers  to  the  debts  of 
"Colonel  John  Brown,  commissary  of  the  Irish  army,  to 
several  Protestants,"  and  arranges  for  their  satisfaction. 

On  the  morning  of  the  5th  of  October,  1691,  a  singular 
scene  was  witnessed  on  the  northern  shore  of  the  Shannon, 
beyond  the  city  walls.  On  that  day  the  Irish  regiments 
were  to  make  their  choice  between  exile  for  life,  or  service 
in  the  armies  of  their  conqueror.    At  each  end  of  a  gently 


480 


rilK  STORY  OF  in  EL  A  XT). 


rising  ground  beyond  the  suburbs,  were  planted  on  one 
side  the  royal  standard  of  France,  and  on  the  other  that 
of  England.  It  was  agreed  that  the  regiments,  as  they 
marched  out  —  with  all  the  honours  of  war ;  drums  beat- 
ing, colours  flying,  and  matches  lighting"  —  should,  on 
reaching  this  spot,  wheel  to  the  left  or  to  the  right  beneath 
that  flag  under  which  they  elected  to  serve.  At  the  head 
of  the  Irish  marched  the  foot  guards  —  the  finest  regiment 
in  the  seryice  —  fourteen  hundred  strong.  All  eyes  were 
fixed  on  this  splendid  body  of  men.  On  they  came,  amidst 
breathless  silence  and  acute  suspense ;  for  well  both  the 
English  and  Irish  generals  knew  that  the  choice  of  the  first 
regiment  would  powerfully  influence  all  the  rest.  The 
guards  marched  up  to  the  critical  spot  and  —  in  a  body 
wheeled  to  the  colours  of  France ;  barely  seven  men  turn- 
ing to  the  English  side  !  Ginckel,  we  are  told,  was  greatly 
agitated  as  he  Avitnessed  the  proceeding.  The  next  regi- 
ment, however  (Lord  Iveagh's),  marched  as  unanimously 
to  the  Williamite  banner,  as  did  also  portions  of  two  others. 
But  the  bulk  of  the  Irish  army  defiled  under  the  Fleur  de 
lis  of  King  Louis ;  only  one  thousand  and  forty-six,  out  of 
nearly  fourteen  thousand  men,  preferring  the  service  of 
England ! 

A  few  days  afterwards  a  French  fleet  sailed  up  the 
Shannon  with  an  aiding  army,  and  bringing  money,  arms, 
ammunition,  stores,  food,  and  clothing  I  Ginckel,  affrighted, 
imagined  the  Irish  would  now  disclaim  the  articles,  and 
renew  the  war.  But  it  was  not  the  Irish  who  were  to  break 
the  Treaty  of  Limerick.  Sarsfield,  when  told  that  a  power- 
ful fleet  was  sailing  up  the  river,  seemed  stunned  by  the 
news!  He  was  silent  for  a  moment,  and  then,  in  mourn- 
ful accents,  replied :  "  Too  late.  The  treaty  is  signed ; 
our  honour  is  pledged  —  the  honour  of  Ireland.  Though  a 
hundred  thousand  Frenchmen  offered  to  aid  us  noiv^  we 
must  keep  our  plighted  troth  !  "  * 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


481 


He  forbade  the  expedition  to  land,  with  a  scrupulous 
sense  of  honour  contending  that  the  spirit  if  not  the  letter 
of  the  capitulation  extended  to  any  such  arrival !  The 
French  ships,  accordingly,  were  used  only  to  transport  to 
France  the  Irish  army  that  had  volunteered  for  foreign 
service.  Soldiers  and  civilians,  nobles,  gentry,  and  clergy, 
there  sailed  in  all  nineteen  thousand  and  twenty-five  per- 
sons. Most  of  the  officers,  like  their  illustrious  leader, 
Sarsfield,!  gave  up  fortune,  family,  home,  and  friends,  re- 
fusing the  most  tempting  offers  from  William,  whose  anx- 
iety to  enroll  them  in  his  own  service  was  earnestly  and 
perseveringly  pressed  upon  them  to  the  last.  Hard  was 
their  choice  ;  great  was  the  sacrifice.  Full  of  anguish  was 
that  parting,  whose  sorrowful  spirit  has  been  so  faithfully 
expressed  by  Mr.  Aubrey  de  Vere,  in  the  following  simple 
and  touching  verses  —  the  soliloquy  of  a  brigade  soldier 
sailing  away  from  Limerick  :  — 

"  I  snatched  a  stone  from  the  bloodied  brook, 
And  hurled  it  at  my  household  door ! 
No  farewell  of  my  love  I  took : 
I  shall  see  my  friend  no  more. 

"  I  dashed  across  the  church-yard  bound  : 
I  knelt  not  by  my  parents'  grave  : 
There  rang  from  my  heart  a  clarion's  sound, 
That  summoned  me  o'er  the  wave. 

"  No  land  to  me  can  native  be 

That  strangers  trample,  and  tyrants  stain : 
When  the  valleys  I  loved  are  cleansed  and  free, 
They  are  mine,  they  are  mine  again ! 

"  Till  then,  in  sunshine  or  sunless  weather, 
By  Seme  and  Loire,  and  the  broad  Garonne 
My  war-horse  and  I  roam  on  together 
Wherever  God  will.    On  !  on  !  " 


1  His  patrimonial  estates  near  Lucan,  county  Dublin,  were,  even  at  that 
day,  worth  nearly  three  thousand  pounds  per  annum. 


482 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


These  were  not  wholly  lost  to  Ireland,  though  not  a 
man  of  them  ever  saw  Ireland  more.  They  served  her 
abroad  when  they  could  no  longer  strike  for  her  at  home. 
They  made  her  sad  yet  glorious  story  familiar  in  the  courts 
of  Christendom.  They  made  her  valour  felt  and  respected 
on  the  battle-fields  of  Europe.  And  as  they  had  not 
quitted  her  soil  until  they  exacted  terms  from  the  con- 
queror, which,  if  observed,  might  have  been  for  her  a 
charter  of  protection,  so  did  they  in  their  exile  take  a  ter- 
rible vengeance  upon  that  conqueror  for  his  foul  and 
treacherous  violation  of  that  treaty. 

No !  These  men  were  not,  in  all,  lost  to  Ireland.  Their 
deeds  are  the  proudest  in  her  story.  History  may  parallel, 
but  it  can  adduce  nothing  to  surpass,  the  chivalrous  devo- 
tion of  the  men  who  comprised  this  second  great  armed 
migration  of  Irish  valour,  faiths  and  patriotism. 


CHAPTER  LXXIII. 

HOW  THE  TREATY  OF  LIMERICK  WAS  BROKEN  AND 
TRAMPLED  UNDER  FOOT  BY  THE  "PROTESTANT  IN- 
TEREST," YELLING  FOR  MORE  PLUNDER  AND  MORE 
PERSECUTION. 

^^^^^HERE  is  no  more  bitter  memory  in  the  Irish 
W&  breast,  than  that  which  tells  how  the  Treaty  of 
Limerick  was  violated  ;  and  there  is  not  probably 
on  record  a  breach  of  public  ftiith  more  nakedly 
and  confessedly  infamous  than  was  that  violation. 

None  of  this  damning  blot  touches  William  —  now  king 
de  facto  of  the  two  islands.  He  did  lih  part ;  and  the 
truthful  historian  is  bound  on  good  evidence  to  assume  for 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAjVD. 


him  that  he  saw  with  indignation  and  disgust  the  shame- 
less and  dastardly  breach  of  that  treaty  by  the  dominant 
and  all-powerful  Protestant  faction.  We  have  seen  how 
the  lords  justices  came  down  from  Dublin  and  approved 
and  signed  the  treaty  at  Limerick.^  The  king  bound 
public  faith  to  it  still  more  firmly,  formally,  and  solemnly, 
by  the  issue  of  royal  letters  patent  confirmatory  of  all 
its  articles,  issued  from  Westminster,  24th  February,  1692, 
in  the  name  of  himself  and  Queen  Mary. 

We  .shall  now  see  how  this  treaty  was  kept  towards  the 
Irish  Catholics. 

The  Protestant  interest "  of  Ireland,  as  they  called 
themselves,  no  sooner  found  the  last  of  the  Irish  regiments 
shipped  from  the  Shannon,  than  they  openly  announced 
that  the  treaty  would  not,  and  ought  not  to  be  kept !  It 
was  the  old  story.  Whenever  the  English  sovereign  or 
government  desired  to  pause  in  the  work  of  persecution 
and  plunder,  if  not  to  treat  the  native  Irish  in  a  spirit  of 
conciliation  or  justice,  the  "  colony,"  the  "  plantation,"  the 
garrison,  the  "  Protestant  interest,"  screamed  in  frantic 
resistance.  It  was  so  in  the  reign  of  James  the  First;  it 
was  so  in  the  reign  of  Charles  the  First ;  it  was  so  in  the 
reign  of  Charles  the  Second ;  it  was  so  in  the  reign  of 
James  the  Second ;  it  was  so  in  the  reign  of  William  and 
Mary.    Any  attempt  of  king  or  government  to  mete  to 

1  Here  it  may  be  well  to  note  an  occurrence  which  some  writers  regard 
as  a  deliberate  and  fonl  attempt  to  overreach  and  trick  Sarsfield  in  the 
treaty,  but  which  might,  after  all,  have  been  accident.  The  day  after  the 
treaty  was  signed  in  "  fair  copy,"  it  was  discovered  that  one  line  —  contain- 
ing however  one  of  the  most  important  stipulations  in  the  entire  treaty  — 
had  been  omitted  in  the  "fair  copy"  by  the  W^illiamites,  though  duly 
set  out  in  the  ''first  draft"  signed  by  both  parties.  The  instant  it  was 
discovered,  Sarsfield  called  on  Ginckel  to  answer  for  it.  The  latter,  and 
all  the  Williamite  "  contracting  parties,"  declared  the  omission  purely 
accidental  — inserted  the  line  in  its  right  place,  and,  by  a  supplemental 
agreement,  solemnlj^  covenanted  that  this  identical  line  should  have  a 
special  confirmation  from  the  king  and  parliament.  The  kiug  honourably 
did  so.   The  parliament  tore  it  into  shreds  ! 


484 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


the  native  Catholic  population  of  Ireland  any  measure  of 
treatment  save  what  the  robber  and  murderer  metes  out 
to  his  helpless  victim,  was  denounced  —  absolutely  com- 
plained of  —  as  a  daring  wrong  and  grievance  against 
what  was,  and  is  still,  called  the  Protestant  interest,"  or 
"  our  glorious  rights  and  liberties."  ^  Indeed,  no  sooner 
had  the  lords  justices  returned  from  Limerick,  than  the 
Protestant  pulpits  commenced  to  resound  with  denuncia- 
tions of  those  who  would  observe  the  treaty ;  and  Dopping, 
titular  Protestant  bishop  of  Meath,  as  Protestant  historians 
record,  preached  before  the  lords  justices  themselves  a 
notable  sermon  on  the  crime  of  keeping  faith  with 
Papists." 

The  "  Protestant  interest "  party  saw  with  indignation 
that  the  king  meant  to  keep  faith  with  the  capitulated 
Catholics ;  nay,  possibly  to  consolidate  the  country  by  a 
comparatively  conciliatory,  just,  and  generous  policy; 
which  was,  they  contended,  monstrous.  It  quickly  occurred 
to  them,  however,  that  as  they  were  sure  to  be  a  strong 
majority  in  the  parliament,  they  could  take  into  their  own 
hands  the  work  of  "  reconstruction,"  when  they  might 
freely  wreak  their  will  on  the  vanquished,  and  laugh  to 
scorn  all  treaty  faith. 

There  was  some  danger  of  obstruction  from  the  power- 
ful Catholic  minority  entitled  to  sit  in  both  houses  of 
parliament ;  but,  for  this  danger  the  dominant  faction  found 
a  specific.  By  an  unconstitutional  straining  of  the  theory 
that  each  house  was  judge  of  the  qualification  of  its  mem- 
bers, they  framed  test  oaths  to  exclude  the  minority.  In 
utter  violation  of  the  Treaty  of  Limerick  —  a  clause  in 

1  An  occurrence  ever  "  repeating  itself."  Even  so  recently  as  the  year 
1867,  on  the  rumour  that  the  English  government  intended  to  grant  some 
modicum  of  civil  and  religious  equality  in  Ireland,  this  same  "  Protestant 
interest  "  faction  screamed  and  yelled  after  the  old  fashion,  complained  of 
such  an  intention  as  a  grievance,  and  went  through  the  usual  vows  about 
"  our  glorious  rights  and  liberties." 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


485 


which,  as  we  have  seen,  covenanted  that  no  oath  should  be 
required  of  a  Catholic  other  than  the  oath  of  allegiance 
therein  set  out  — the  parliamentary  majority  framed  a  test 
oath  explicitly  denying  and  denouncing  the  doctrines  of 
transubstantiation,  invocation  of  saints,  and  the  sacrifice 
of  the  Mass,  as  damnable  and  idolatrous."  Of  course  the 
Catholic  peers  and  commoners  retired  rather  than  take 
these  tests,  and  the  way  was  now  all  clear  for  the  bloody 
work  of  persecution. 

In  the  so-called  "  Catholic  parliament "  —  the  parliament 
which  assembled  in  Dublin  in  1690,  and  which  was  opened 
by  King  James  in  person  —  the  Catholics  greatly  prepon- 
derated (in  just  such  proportion  as  the  population  was 
Catholic  or  Protestant)  ;  yet  no  attempt  was  made  by 
that  majority  to  trample  down  or  exclude  the  minority. 
Nay,  the  Protestant  prelates  all  took  their  seats  in  the 
peers'  chamber,  and  debated  and  divided  as  stoutly  as  ever 
throughout  the  session,  while  not  a  Catholic  prelate  sat  in 
that  Catholic  parliament "  at  all.  It  was  the  Catholics' 
day  of  power,  and  they  used  it  generously,  magnanimously, 
nobly.  Sustainment  of  the  king,  suppression  of  rebellion, 
were  the  all-pervading  sentiments.  Tolerance  of  all  creeds 
— freedom  of  conscience  for  Protestant  and  for  Catholic  — 
were  the  watchwords  in  that  "  Catholic  parliament." 

And  now,  how  was  all  this  requited  ?  Alas  !  We  have 
just  seen  how  !  Well  might  the  Catholic  in  that  hour, 
exclaim  in  the  language  used  for  him  by  Mr.  De  Vere  in 
his  poem  :  — 

"  We,  too,  had  our  day  —  it  was  brief :  it  is  ended  — 

When  a  king  dwelt  among  ns,  no  strange  king,  but  ours  : 
When  the  shout  of  a  people  delivered  ascended, 

And  shook  the  broad  banner  that  hung  on  his  tow'rs. 
We  saw  it  like  trees  in  a  summer  breeze  shiver, 

We  read  the  gold  legend  that  blazoned  it  o'er : 
*  To-day  !  —  now  or  never  !    To-day  and  for  ever  ! ' 

O  God !  have  we  seen  it,  to  see  it  no  more  ? 


486 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


'*  How  fared  it  that  season,  our  lords  and  our  masters, 

In  that  spring  of  our  freedom,  how  fared  it  with  you  ? 
Did  we  trample  your  faith  ?    Did  we  mock  your  disasters  ? 

We  restored  but  his  own  to  the  leal  and  the  true. 
Ye  had  fallen  !    'T  was  a  season  of  tempest  and  troubles, 

But  against  you  we  drew  not  the  knife  ye  had  drawn  ; 
In  the  war-field  we  met :  but  your  prelates  and  nobles 

Stood  up  mid  the  senate  in  ermine  and  lawn  !  " 

It  was  even  so,  indeed.  But  now.  What  a  contrast ! 
Strangers  to  every  sentiment  of  magnanimity,  justice,  or 
compassion,  the  victorious  majority  went  at  the  work  of 
proscription  wholesale.  The  king,  through  lord  justice 
Sydney,  offered  some  resistance  ;  but,  by  refusing  to  vote 
him  adequate  supplies,  they  soon  taught  William  that  he 
had  better  not  interfere  with  their  designs.  After  four 
years'  hesitancy,  he  yielded  in  unconcealed  disgust.  Forth- 
with ample  supplies  were  voted  to  his  majesty,  and  the 
parliament  proceeded  to  practise  freely  the  doctrine  of 
''no  faith  to  be  kept  with  Papists." 

Of  course  they  began  with  confiscations.  Plunder  was 
ever  the  beginning  and  the  end  of  their  faith  and  practice. 
Soon  1,060,792  acres  were  declared  ''escheated  to  the 
crown."  Then  they  looked  into  the  existing  powers  of 
persecution,  to  see  how  far  they  were  capable  of  extension. 
These  were  found  to  be  atrocious  enough ;  nevertheless, 
the  new  parliament  added  the  following  fresh  enactments : 
"1.  An  act  to  deprive  Catholics  of  the  means  of  edu- 
cating their  children  at  home  or  abroad,  and  to  render 
them  incapable  of  being  guardians  of  their  own  or  any 
other  person's  children ;  2.  An  act  to  disarm  the  Catholics ; 
and  3.  Another  to  banish  all  the  Catholic  priests  and 
prelates.  Having  thus  violated  the  treaty,  they  gravely 
brougTit  in  a  bill  '  to  confirm  the  Articles  of  Limerick.' 
'  The  very  title  of  the  bill,'  says  Dr.  Crooke  Taylor,  '  con- 
tains evidence  of  its  injustice.    It  is  styled,  "  A  Bill  for 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


487 


the  confirmation  of  Articles  (not  the  articles)  made  at  the 
surrender  of  Limerick.''  '  And  the  preamble  shows  that 
the  little  word  '  the '  was  not  accidentally  omitted.  It  runs 
thus:  'That  the  said  articles,  or  so  much  of  them  as  may 
consist  with  the  safety  and  ivelfare  of  your  majesty's  subjects 
in  these  kingdoms.,  may  be  confirmed,'  etc.  The  parts  that 
appeared  to  these  legislators  inconsistent  with  '  the  safety 
and  welfare  of  his  majesty's  subjects,'  was  the  first  article, 
which  provided  for  the  security  of  the  Catholics  from  all 
disturbances  on  account  of  their  religion ;  those  parts  of 
the  second  article  which  confirmed  the  Catholic  gentry  of 
Limerick,  Clare,  Cork,  Kerry,  and  Mayo,  in  the  possession 
of  their  estates,  and  allowed  all  Catholics  to  exercise  their 
trades  and  professions  without  obstruction ;  the  fourth 
article,  which  extended  the  benefit  of  the  peace  to  certain 
Irish  officers  then  abroad ;  the  seventh  article,  which 
allowed  the  Catholic  gentry  to  ride  armed ;  the  ninth 
article,  which  provides  that  the  oath  of  allegiance  shall  be 
the  only  oath  required  from  Catholies,  and  one  or  two 
others  of  minor  importance.  All  of  these  are  omitted  in 
the  bill  for  '  The  confirmation  of  articles  made  at  the  sur- 
render of  Limerick.' 

"The  Commons  passed  the  bill  without  much  difficulty. 
The  House  of  Lords,  however,  contained  some  few  of  the 
ancient  nobility  and  some  prelates,  who  refused  to  ac- 
knowledge the  dogma,  '  that  no  faith  should  be  kept  with 
Papists,'  as  an  article  of  their  creed.  The  bill  was  strenu- 
ously resisted,  and  when  it  was  at  length  carried,  a  strong 
protest  against  it  was  signed  by  lords  Londonderry,  Ty- 
rone, and  Duncannon,  the  barons  of  Ossory,  Limerick, 
Killaloe,  Kerry,  Howth,  Kingston,  and  Strabane,  and,  to 
their  eternal  honour  be  it  said,  the  Protestant  bishops  of 
Kildare,  Elphin,  Derry,  Clonfert,  and  Killala ! 


1  M'Gee. 


488 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


Thus  was  that  solemn  pact,  which  was  in  truth  the  treaty 
of  the  Irish  nation  with  the  newly  set-up  English  regime^ 
torn  and  trampled  under  foot  by  a  tyrannic  bigotry. 


CHAPTER  LXXIV. 

"  THE  PENAL  TIMES."  HOW  "PROTESTANT  ASCENDENCY  " 
BY  A  BLOODY  PENAL  CODE  ENDEAVOURED  TO  BR  CITIFY 
THE  MIND,  DESTROY  THE  INTELLECT,  AND  DEFORM  THE 
PHYSICAL  AND  MORAL  FEATURES  OF  THE  SUBJECT 
CATHOLICS. 


T  was  now  there  fell  upon  Ireland  that  night  of 
deepest  horror  —  that  agony  the  most  awful,  the 
most  prolonged,  of  any  recorded  on  the  blotted 
page  of  human  suffering. 


It  would  be  little  creditable  to  an  Irish  Catholic  to  own 
himself  capable  of  narrating  this  chapter  of  Irish  history 
with  calmness  and  without  all-conquering  emotion.  For 
my  part  I  content  myself  with  citing  the  descriptions  of  it 
supplied  by  Protestant  and  English  writers. 

"The  eighteenth  century,"  says  one  of  these,  writing  on 
the  penal  laws  in  Ireland,  "  was  the  era  of  persecution,  in 
which  the  law  did  the  work  of  the  sword  more  effectually 
and  more  safely.  Then  was  established  a  code  framed 
with  almost  diabolical  ingenuity  to  extinguish  natural  affec- 
tion—  to  foster  perfidy  and  hypocrisy  —  to  petrify  conscience 
—  to  perpetuate  brutal  ignorance  —  to  facilitate  the  work  of 
tyranny  —  by  rendering  the  vices  of  slavery  inherent  and 
natural  in  the  Irish  character,  and  to  make  Protestantism 
almost  irredeemably  odious  as  the  monstrous  incarnation 
of  all  moral  perversions. 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


489 


"Too  well,"  he  continues,  "did  it  accomplish  its  deadly 
work  of  debasement  on  the  intellects,  morals,  and  physical 
condition  of  a  people  sinking  in  degeneracy  from  age  to 
age,  till  all  manly  spirit,  all  virtuous  sense  of  personal  in- 
dependence and  responsibility,  was  nearly  extinct,  and  the 
very  features  —  vacant,  timid,  cunning,  and  unreflective  — 
betrayed  the  crouching  slave  within  !  "  ^ 

In  the  presence  of  the  terrible  facts  he  is  called  upon  to 
chronicle,  the  generous  nature  of  the  Protestant  historian 
whom  I  am  quoting,  warms  into  indignation.  Unable  to 
endure  the  reflection,  that  they  who  thus  laboured  to 
deform  and  brutify  the  Irish  people  are  for  ever  reproach- 
ing them  before  the  world  for  bearing  traces  of  the  in- 
famous effort,  he  bursts  forth  into  the  following  noble 
vindication  of  the  calumniated  victims  of  oppression :  — 

"Having  no  rights  or  franchises  —  no  legal  protection  of 
life  or  property  —  disqualified  to  handle  a  gun,  even  as  a 
common  soldier  or  a  gamekeeper  —  forbidden  to  acquire 
the  elements  of  knowledge  at  home  or  abroad  —  forbidden 
even  to  render  to  God  what  conscience  dictated  as  His  due 
— what  could  the  Irish  be  but  abject  serfs?  What  nation 
in  their  circumstances  could  have  been  otherwise?  Is  it 
not  amazing  that  any  social  virtue  could  have  survived 
such  an  ordeal  ?  —  that  any  seeds  of  good,  any  roots  of 
national  greatness,  could  have  outlived  such  a  long  tem- 
pestuous winter  ?  " 

"  These  laws,"  he  continues,  "  were  aimed  not  only  at 
the  religion  of  the  Catholic,  but  still  more  at  his  liberty 
and  his  property.  He  could  enjoy  no  freehold  propert}^ 
nor  was  he  allowed  to  have  a  lease  for  a  longer  term. than 
thirty-one  years  ;  but  as  even  this  term  was  long  enough 
to  encourage  an  industrious  man  to  reclaim  waste  lands 
and  improve  his  worldly  circumstances,  it  was  enacted 


1  Cassell's  (Godkin's)  History  of  Ireland,  vol.  ii.  page  116, 


490 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


that  if  a  Papist  should  have  a  farm  producing  a  profit 
greater  than  one-third  of  the  rent,  his  right  to  such  should 
immediately  cease,  and  pass  over  to  the  first  Protestant 
who  should  discover  the  rate  of  profit  I  "  ^ 

This  was  the  age  that  gave  to  Irish  topography  the 
"  Corrig-an-Affrion,"  found  so  thickly  marked  on  every 
barony  map  in  Ireland.  "  The  Mass  Rock !  "  What 
memories  cling  around  each  hallowed  moss-clad  stone  or  * 
rocky  ledge  on  the  mountain  side,  or  in  the  deep  recess  of 
some  desolate  glen,  whereon,  for  years  and  years,  the  Holy 
Sacrifice  was  offered  up  in  stealth  and  secrecy,  the  death- 
penalty  hanging  over  priest  and  worshipper !  Not .  un- 
frequently  Mass  was  interrupted  by  the  approach  of  the 
bandogs  of  the  law ;  for,  quickened  by  the  rew^ards  to  be 
earned,  there  sprang  up  in  those  days  the  infamous  trade 
of  priest-hunting,  "five  pounds"  being  equally  the  govern- 
ment price  for  the  head  of  a  priest  as  for  the  head  of  a 
wolf.  The  utmost  care  was  necessary  in  divulging  intelli- 
gence of  the  night  on  which  Mass  would  next  be  celebrated ; 
and  when  the  congregation  had  furtively  stolen  to  the  spot, 
sentries  were  posted  all  around  before  the  Mass  began. 
Yet  in  instances  not  a  few,  the  worshippers  were  taken  by 
surprise,  and  the  blood  of  the  murdered  priest  wetted  the 
altar  stone. 

Well  might  our  Protestant  national  poet,  Davis,  ex- 
claim, contemplating  this  deep  night-time  of  suffering  and 
sorrow :  — 

"  Oh !  weep  those  clays  —  the  penal  days, 
When  Ireland  hopelessly  complamed  : 
Oh  !  weep  those  days  —  the  penal  da,js, 
"When  godless  persecution  reigned. 


1  Cassell's  (Godkin's)  History  of  Ireland,  vol.  ii.  page  119. 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


491 


"  They  bribed  the  flock,  they  bribed  the  son, 
To  sell  the  priest  and  rob  the  sire ; 
Their  dogs  were  taught  alike  to  run 
Upon  the  scent  of  wolf  and  friar. 
Among  the  poor, 
Or  on  the  moor, 
Were  hid  the  pious  and  the  true  — 
While  traitor  knave 
And  recreant  slave 
Had  riches,  rank,  and  retinue  ; 
And,  exiled  in  those  penal  days, 
Our  banners  over  Europe  blaze." 

A  hundred  years  of  such  a  code  in  active  operation, 
ought,  according  to  all  human  calculations,  to  have  suc- 
ceeded in  accomplishing  its  malefic  purpose.  But  again, 
all  human  calculations,  all  natural  consequences  and  proba- 
bilities, were  set  aside,  and  God,  as  if  by  a  miracle,  pre- 
served the  faith,  the  virtue,  the  vitality,  and  power  of  the 
Irish  race.  He  decreed  that  they  should  win  a  victory 
more  glorious  than  a  hundred  gained  on  the  battle-field  — 
more  momentous  in  its  future  results  —  in  their  triumph 
over  the  penal  code.  After  three  half  centuries  of  seem- 
ing death,  Irish  Catholicity  has  rolled  away  the  stone  from 
its  guarded  sepulchre,  and  walked  forth  full  of  life !  It 
could  be  no  human  faith  that,  after  such  a  crucifixion  and 
burial,  could  thus  arise  glorious  and  immortal  I  This 
triumph,  the  greatest,  has  been  Ireland's ;  and  God,  in 
His  own  good  time,  will  assuredly  give  her  the  fulness  of 
victory. 


492 


THE  STOMY  OF  IRELAND. 


CHAPTER  LXXV. 

THE  IRISH  ARMY  IN  EXILE.  HOW  SARSFIELD  FELL  ON 
LANDEN  PLAIN.  HOW  THE  REGIMENTS  OF  BURKE 
AND  O'MAHONY  saved  CREMONA,  FIGHTING  IN  MUS- 
KETS AND  SHIRTS."  THE  GLORIOUS  VICTORY  OF 
FONTENOY!  how  the  IRISH  EXILES,  FAITHFUL  TO 
THE  END,  SHARED  THE  LAST  GALLANT  EFFORT  OF 
PRINCE  CHARLES  EDWARD. 

HE  glory  of  Ireland  was  all  abroad  in  those 
years.  Spurned  from  the  portals  of  the  con- 
stitution established  by  the  conqueror,  the  Irish 
slave  followed  with  eager  gaze  the  meteor  track 
of  "the  Brigade."  Namur,  Steenkirk,  Staffardo,  Cre- 
mona, Ramillies,  Fontenoy  —  each,  in  its  turn,  sent  a  thrill 
through  the  heart  of  Ireland.  The  trampled  captive  fur- 
tively lifted  his  head  from  the  earth,  and  looked  eastward, 
and  his  face  was  lighted  up  as  by  the  beam  of  the  morn- 
ing sun. 

For  a  hundred  years,  that  magnificent  body,  the  Irish 
Brigade  —  (continuously  recruited  from  home,  though 
death  was  the  penalty  by  English  law)  —  made  the  Irish 
name  sj^nonymous  with  heroism  and  fidelity  throughout 
Europe.  Sarsfield  was  amongst  the  first  to  meet  a  sol- 
dier's death.  But  he  fell  in  the  arms  of  victory,  and 
died,  as  the  old  annalists  would  say,  with  his  mind  and 
his  heart  turned  to  Ireland.  In  the  bloody  battle  of  Lan- 
den,  fought  29th  July,  1693,  he  fell  mortally  wounded, 
while  leading  a  victorious  charge  of  the  Brigade.  The 
ball  had  entered  near  his  heart,  and  while  he  lay  on  the 
field  his  corslet  was  removed  in  order  that  the  wound 
might  be  examined.    He  himself,  in  a  pang  of  pain,  put 


THE  STOnr  OF  IRELAND. 


493 


his  hand  to  his  breast  as  if  to  staunch  the  wound.  When 
he  took  away  his  hand,  it  was  full  of  blood.  Gazing  at 
it  for  a  moment  sorrowfully,  he  faintly  gasped  out :  "  Oh! 
that  this  were  for  Ireland!''^    He  never  spoke  again  ! 

"His  place  was  soon  filled  from  the  ranks  of  the  exiled 
Irish  nobles  —  those  illustrious  men  whose  names  are 
emblazoned  on  the  glory  roll  of  France  —  and  the  Brigade 
went  forward  in  its  path-  of  victory.  At  Cremona,  1702, 
an  Irish  regiment,  most  of  the  men  fighting  in  their  shirts 
—  (the  place  had  been  surprised  in  the  dead  of  night  by 
treachery)  —  saved  the  town  under  most  singular  circum- 
stances. Duke  Villeroy,  commanding  the  French  army,  in- 
cluding two  Irish  regiments  under  O'Mahony  and  Burke, 
held  Cremona;  his  adversary.  Prince  Eugene,  command- 
ing the  Germans,  being  encamped  around  Mantua.  Trea- 
son was  at  work,  however,  to  betray  Cremona.  One  night 
a  partisan  of  the  Germans  within  the  walls,  traitorously 
opened  one  of  the  gates  to  the  Austrian  troops.  Before 
the  disaster  was  discovered,  the  French  general,  most  of 
the  officers,  the  military  chests,  etc.,  were  taken,  and  the 
German  horse  and  foot  were  in  possession  of  the  town,  ex- 
cepting one  place  only  —  the  Po  Gate,  which  was  guarded 
by  the  two  Irish  regiments.  In  fact.  Prince  Eugene  had 
already  taken  up  his  head-quarters  in  the  town  hall,  and 
Cremona  was  virtually  in  his  hands.  The  Irish  were 
called  on  to  surrender  the  Po  Gate.  They  answered  with 
a  volley.  The  Austrian  general,  on  learning  they  were 
Irish  troops,  desired  to  save  brave  men  from  utter  sacri- 
fice—  for  he  had  Irish  in  his  own  service,  and  held  the 
men  of  Ireland  in  high  estimation.  He  sent  to  expostu- 
late with  them,  and  show  them  the  madness  of  sacrificing 
their  lives  where  they  could  have  no  probability  of  relief, 
and  to  assure  them  that  if  they  would  enter  into  the 
imperial  service,  they  should  be  directly  and  honourably 
promoted.    "  The  first  part  of  this  proposal,"  says  the 


494 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


authority  I  have  been  following,  they  heard  with  impa- 
tience ;  the  second,  with  disdain.  '  Tell  the  prince,'  said 
they,  '  that  we  have  hitherto  preserved  the  honour  of  our 
country,  and  that  we  hope  this  day  to  convince  him  we 
are  worthy  of  his  esteem.  While  one  of  us  exists^  the  Ger- 
man eagles  shall  not  be  displayed  upon  these  walls,''  "  The 
attack  upon  them  was  forthwith  commenced  by  a  large 
body  of  foot,  supported  by  five  thousand  cuirassiers.  As 
I  have  already  noted,  the  Irish,  having  been  aroused  from 
their  sleep,  had  barely  time  to  clutch  their  arms  and 
rush  forth  undressed.  Davis,  in  his  ballad  of  Cremona, 
informs  us,  indeed  (very  probably  more  for  ''rhyme  "  than 

with  ''reason")  that 

 the  major  is  drest ; 

adding,  however,  the  undoubted  fact  — 

But  muskets  and  shirts  are  the  clothes  of  the  rest. 

A  bloody  scene  of  street  fighting  now  ensued,  and  before 
the  morning  sun  had  risen  high,  the  naked  Irish  had 
recovered  nearly  half  the  city ! 

"  '  In  on  them/  said  Friedberg  —  '  and  Dillon  is  broke, 
Like  forest  flowers  crushed  by  the  fall  of  the  oak.'  . 
Through  the  naked  battalions  the  cuirassiers  go ;  — 
But  the  man,  not  the  dress,  makes  the  soldier,  I  trow. 
Upon  them  with  grapple,  with  bay'net,  and  ball, 
Like  wolves  upon  gaze-hounds  the  Irishmen  fall — 
Black  Friedberg  is  slain  by  O'Mahony's  steel. 
And  back  from  the  bullets  the  cuirassiers  reel. 

"  Oh  I  hear  you  their  shout  in  your  quarters,  Eugene  ? 
In  vain  on  Prince  Yaudemont  for  succour  you  lean ! 
The  bridge  has  been  broken,  and  mark !  how  pell-mell 
Come  riderless  horses  and  volley  and  yell ! 
He 's  a  veteran  soldier  —  he  clenches  his  hands, 
He  springs  on  his  horse,  disengages  his  bands —  • 
He  rallies,  he  urges,  till,  hopeless  of  aid, 
He  is  chased  through  the  gates  by  the  Irish  Brigade." 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


495 


It  was  even  so.  '^Before  evening,''  we  are  told,  "the 
enemy  were  completely  expelled  the  town,  and  the  general 
and  military  chests  recovered!''  Well  might  the  poet 
undertake  to  describe  as  here  quoted  the  effects  of  the 
news  in  Austria,  England,  France,  and  Ireland  — 

"News,  news  in  Vienna!  —  King  Leopold 's  sad. 
News,  news  in  St.  James's  !  —  King  William  is  mad. 
News,  news  in  Versailles  !  — '  Let  the  Irish  Brigade 
Be  loyally  honoured,  and  royally  paid.' 
News,  news  in  old  Ireland  !  —  high  rises  her  pride, 
And  loud  sounds  her  wail  for  her  children  who  died ; 
And  deep  is  her  prayer  — '  God  send  I  may  see 
MacDonnell  and  Mahony  fighting  for  me ! 

Far  more  memorable,  however,  far  more  important,  was 
the  ever-glorious  day  of  Fontenoy  —  a  name  which  to  this 
daj^  thrills  the  Irish  heart  with  pride.  Of  this  great  bat- 
tle —  fought  11th  May,  1745  —  in  which  the  Irish  Brigade 
turned  the  fortunes  of  the  day,  and  saved  the  honour  of 
France,  I  take  the  subjoined  account,  prefixed  to  Davis's 
well-known  poem,  which  I  also  quote  :  — 

A  French  army  of  seventy-nine  thousand  men,  com- 
manded by  Marshal  Saxe,  and  encouraged  by  the  presence 
of  both  the  King  and  the  Dauphin,  laid  siege  to  Tournay, 
early  in  May,  1745.  The  Duke  of  Cumberland  advanced 
at  the  head  of  fifty-five  thousand  men,  chiefly  English  and 
Dutch,  to  relieve  the  town.  At  the  Duke's  approach, 
Saxe  and  the  King  advanced  a  few  miles  from  Tournay 
.with  forty-five  thousand  men,  leaving  eighteen  thousand 
to  continue  the  siege,  and  six  thousand  to  guard  the 
Scheldt.  Saxe  posted  his  army  along  a  range  of  slopes 
thus :  his  centre  was  on  the  village  of  Fonteno}',  his  left 
stretched  off  through  the  wood  of  Barri,  his  right  reached 
to  the  town  of  St.  Antoine,  close  to  the  Scheldt.  He  for- 
tified his  right  and  centre  by  the  villages  of  Fontenoy  and 
St.  Antoine,  and  redoubts  near  them.    His  extreme  left 


496 


THE  STORY  OF  lU ELAND. 


was  also  strengthened  by  a  redoubt  in  the  wood  of  Barri ; 
but  his  left  centre,  between  that  wood  and  the  village  of 
Fontenoy,  was  not  guarded  by  anything  save  slight  lines. 
Cumberland  had  the  Dutch,  under  Waldeck,  on  his  left, 
and  twice  they  attempted  to  carry  St.  Antoine,  but  were 
repelled  with  heavy  loss.  The  same  fate  attended  the 
English  in  the  centre,  who  thrice  forced  their  way  to 
Fontenoy,  but  returned  fewer  and  sadder  men.  Ingoldsby 
was  then  ordered  to  attack  the  wood  of  Barri  with  Cum- 
berland's right.  He  did  so,  and  broke  into  the  wood, 
when  the  artillery  of  the  redoubt  suddenly  opened  on  him, 
which,  assisted  by  a  constant  fire  from  the  French  tirail- 
leurs (light  infantry),  drove  him  back. 

"  The  Duke  now  resolved  to  make  one  great  and  final 
effort.  He  selected  his  best  regiments,  veteran  English 
corps,  and  formed  them  into  a  single  column  of  six  thou- 
sand men.  At  its  head  were  six  cannon,  and  as  many 
more  on  the  flanks,  which  did  good  service.  Lord  John 
Hay  commanded  this  great  mass.  Everything  being  now 
ready,  the  column  advanced  slowly  and  evenly  as  if  on  the 
parade  ground.  It  mounted  the  slope  of  Saxe's  position, 
and  pressed  on  between  the  wood  of  Barri  and  the  village 
of  Fontenoy.  In  doing  so,  it  was  exposed  to  a  cruel  fire 
of  artillery  and  sharpshooters,  but  it  stood  the  storm,  and 
got  behind  Fontenoy  ! 

"  The  moment  the  object  of  the  column  was  seen,  the 
French  troops  were  hurried  in  upon  them.  The  cavalry 
charged  ;  but  the  English  hardly  paused  to  offer  the  raised 
bayonet,  and  then  poured  in  a  fatal  fire.  On  they  went, 
till  within  a  short  distance,  and  then  threw  in  their  balls 
with  great  precision,  the  officers  actually  laying  their  canes 
along  the  muskets  to  make  the  men  fire  low.  Mass  after 
mass  of  infantry  was  broken,  and  on  went  the  column, 
reduced  but  still  apparently  invincible !  Due  Richelieu 
had  four  cannon  hurried  to  the  front,  and  he  literally 


THE  STOBY  OF  IB  ELAND, 


497 


battered  the  head  of  the  column,  while  the  household 
cavalry  surrounded  them,  and  in  repeated  charges,  wore 
down  their  strength.  But  these  French  were  fearful  suf- 
ferers. The  day  seemed  virtually  lost,  and  King  Louis 
was  about  to  leave  the  field.  In  this  juncture,  Saxe 
ordered  up  his  last  reserve  —  the  L*ish  Brigade,  It  con- 
sisted that  day  of  the  regiments  of  Clare,  Lally,  Dillon, 
Berwick,  Roth,  and  Buckley,  with  Fitzjames's  horse. 
O'Brien,  Lord  Clare,  was  in  command.  Aided  by  the 
Frencli  regiments  of  Normandy  and  Vaisseany,  they  were 
ordered  to  charge  upon  the  flank  of  the  English  with  fixed 
bayonets  without  firing.  Upon  the  approach  of  this  splen- 
did body  of  men,  the  English  were  halted  on  the  slope  of 
a  hill,  and  up  that  slope  the  brigade  rushed  rapidly  and  in 
fine  order;  the  stimulating  cry  of  ^Cuimhnigidh  ar  Lium- 
neac,  agus  ar  fheile  na  Sacsanach,'  ^Remember  Limerick  and 
British  faith^  being  reechoed  from  man  to  man.  The 
fortune  of  the  field  was  no  longer  doubtful.  The  English 
were  weary  with  a  long  day's  fighting,  cut  up  by  cannon, 
charge,  and  musketry,  and  dispirited  by  the  appearance 
of  the  Brigade.  Still  they  gave  then-  fire  well  and  fatally  ; 
but  they  were  literally  stunned  by  the  shout,  and  shattered 
by  the  Irish  charge.  They  broke  before  the  Irish  bayonets, 
and  tumbled  down  the  far  side  of  the  hill  disorganized, 
hopeless,  and  falling  by  hundreds.  The  victory  was  bloody 
and  complete.  Louis  is  said  to  have  ridden  down  to  the 
Irish  bivouac,  and  personally  thanked  them ;  and  George 
the  Second,  on  hearing  it,  uttered  that  memorable  impre- 
cation on  the  penal  code,  '  Cursed  be  the  laws  which  de- 
prive me  of  such  subjects.'  The  one  English  volley  and 
the  short  struggle  on  the  crest  of  the  hill  cost  the  Irish 
dear.  One-fourth  of  the  officers,  including  Colonel  Dil- 
lon, were  killed,  and  one-third  of  the  men.  The  capture 
of  Ghent,  Bruges,  Ostend,  and  Oudenard,  followed  the 
victory  of  Fontenoy." 


498 


THE  SrORY  OF  IRELAND. 


"  Thrice,  at  the  huts  of  Fontenoy,  the  English  column  failed, 
And  thrice  the  lines  of  St.  Antoine  the  Dutch  in  vain  assailed ; 
For  town  and  slope  were  filled  with  foot  and  flanlving  battery, 
And  well  they  swept  the  English  ranks  and  Dutch  auxiliary- 
As  vainly,  through  De  Barri's  Wood  the  British  soldier  burst, 
The  French  artillery  drove  them  back,  diminished  and  dispersed. 
The  bloody  Duke  of  Cumberland  beheld  with  anxious  eye, 
And  ordered  up  his  last  reserve,  his  latest  chance  to  try. 
On  Fontenoy,  on  Fontenoy,  how  fast  his  generals  ride ! 
And  mustering  come  his  chosen  troops,  like  clouds  at  eventide. 

"  Six  thousand  English  veterans  in  stately  column  tread ; 
Their  cannon  blaze  in  front  and  flank ;  Lord  Hay  is  at  their  head ; 
Steady  they  step  adown  the  slope  —  steady  they  climb  the  hill, 
Steady  they  load  —  steady  they  fire,  moving  right  onward  still. 
Betwixt  the  wood  and  Fontenoy,  as  through  a  furnace  blast. 
Through  rampart,  trench,  and  palisade,  and  bullets  showering  fast ; 
And  on  the  open  plain  above  they  rose  and  kept  their  course. 
With  ready  fire  and  grim  resolve,  that  mocked  at  hostile  force. 
Past  Fontenoy,  past  Fontenoy,  while  thinner  grow  their  ranks  — 
They  break  as  broke  the  Zuyder  Zee  through  Holland's  ocean 
banks. 

"  More  idly  than  the  summer  flies,  French  tirailleurs  rush  round ; 
As  stubble  to  the  lava  tide,  French  squadrons  strew  the  ground ; 
Bombshell  and  grape,  and  round  shot  tore,  still  on  they  marched  and 
fired  — 

Fast  from  each  volley  grenadier  and  voltigeur  retired. 
'  Push  on  my  household  cavalry ! '  King  Louis  madly  cried. 
To  death  they  rush,  but  rude  their  shock  —  not  unavenged  they 
died. 

On  through  the  camp  the  column  trod  —  King  Louis  turns  his  rein  : 
*  Not  yety  my  liege,'  Saxe  interposed,  *  the  Irish  troops  remain  ; ' 
And  Fontenoy,  famed  Fontenoy,  had  been  a  AVaterloo, 
Were  not  these  exiles  ready  then,  fresh,  vehement,  and  true. 

'  Lord  Clare,'  he  says,  ^  you  have  your  wish  :  there  are  your  Saxon 
foes ! ' 

The  Marshal  almost  smiles  to  see,  so  furiously  he  goes ! 

How  fierce  the  smile  these  exiles  wear,  who  're  wont  to  look  so  gay ; 

The  treasured  wrongs  of  fifty  years  are  in  their  hearts  to-day. 


THE  STORV  OF  IRELAND. 


499 


The  treaty  broken  ere  the  ink  wherewith 't  was  writ  could  dry, 
Their  plundered  homes,  their  ruined  shrines,  their  women's  parting- 
cry, 

Their  priesthood  hunted  down  like  w^olves,  their  country  over- 
thrown ! 

Each  looks  as  if  revenge  for  all  were  staked  on  him  alone. 

On  Fontenoy,  on  Fontenoy,  nor  ever  yet  elsewhere, 

Pushed  on  to  fight  a  nobler  band  than  those  proud  exiles  were. 

"  O'Brien's  voice  is  hoarse  with  joy,  as  halting  he  commands, 

*  Fix  bay 'nets  —  charge.'  —  Like  mountain  storm  rush  on  these  fiery 

bands ! 

Thin  is  the  English  column  now,  and  faint  their  volleys  grow, 
Yet  must'ring  all  the  strength  they  have,  they  made  a  gallant  show. 
They  dress  their  ranks  upon  the  hill  to  face  that  battle  wind ! 
Their  bayonets  the  breakers'  foam ;  like  rocks  the  men  behind ! 
One  volley  crashes  from  their  line,  when  through  the  surging  smoke, 
With  empty  guns  clutched  in  their  hands,  the  headlong  Irish  broke, 
On  Fontenoy,  on  Fontenoy,  hark  to  that  fierce  huzza ! 

*  Revenge !  remember  Limerick  !  dash  dowai  the  Sassenagh  ! ' 

"  Like  lions  leaping  at  a  fold  w^hen  mad  wdth  hunger's  pang. 
Right  up  against  the  English  line  the  Irish  exiles  sprang. 
Bright  was  their  steel,  't  is  bloody  now,  their  guns  are  filled  with 
gore ; 

Through  shattered  ranks,  and  severed  piles,  and  trampled  flags  they 
tore ; 

The  English  strove  with  desperate  strength,  paused,  rallied,  stag- 
gered, fled  — 

The  green  hill-side  is  matted  close  wdth  dying  and  with  dead. 

Across  the  plain  and  far  away  passed  on  that  hideous  wrack, 

While  cavalier  and  fantassin  dash  in  upon  their  track. 

On  Fontenoy,  on  Fontenoy,  like  eagles  in  the  sun, 

With  bloody  plumes  the  Irish  stand  —  the  field  is  fought  and  won  ! " 

In  the  year  of  Fontenoy,  1745,  Prince  Charles  Edward 
made  his  bold  and  romantic  attempt  to  recover  the  lost 
crown  of  the  Stuarts.  His  expedition,  we  are  told,  ''was 
undertaken  and  conducted  by  Irish  aid,  quite  as  much 
as  by  French  or  Scottish."     His  chief  of  command  was 


500 


THE  STORY  OF  III  ELAND. 


Colonel  O'SuUivan ;  the  most  of  the  funds  were  supplied 
by  the  two  Waters  —  father  and  son  —  Irish  bankers  at 
Paris,  who  advanced  one  hundred  and  eighty  thousand 
iivres  between  them  ; "  another  Irishman,  Walsh,  a  mer- 
chant at  Nantes,  putting  "a  privateer  of  eighteen  guns 
into  the  venture."  Indeed,  one  of  Charles's  English  ad- 
herents, Lord  Elcho,  who  kept  a  journal  of  the  campaign, 
notes  complainingly  the  Irish  influence  under  which  the 
prince  acted.  On  the  19th  July,  he  landed  near  Moidart, 
in  the  north  of  Scotland.  "  Clanronald,  Cameron  of  Lo- 
chiel,  the  Laird  of  M'Leod,  and  a  few  others  having 
arrived,  the  royal  standard  was  unfurled  on  the  19th 
August  at  Glenfinan,  where,  that  evening,  twelve  thou- 
sand men  —  the  entire  army,  so  far  —  were  formed  into 
camp  under  the  orders  of  O'SuUivan.  From  that  day 
until  the  day  of  Culloden,  O'SuUivan  seems  to  have  ma- 
noeuvred the  prince's  forces.  At  Perth,  at  Edinburgh,  at 
Manchester,  at  Culloden,  he  took  command  in  the  field 
or  in  the  garrison ;  and  even*  after  the  sad  result,  he  ad- 
hered to  his  sovereign's  son  with  an  honourable  fidelity 
which  defied  despair."  ^ 

In  Ireland  no  corresponding  movement  took  place.  Yet 
this  is  the  period  which  has  given  to  native  Irish  minstrel- 
sy, as  it  now  survives,  its  abiding  characteristic  of  deep, 
fervent,  unchangeable,  abiding  devotion  to  the  Stuart  cause. 
The  Gaelic  harp  never  gave  forth  richer  melody,  Gaelic 
poetry  never  found  nobler  inspiration,  than  in  its  service. 
In  those  matchless  songs,  which,  under  the  general  des- 
ignation of  "Jacobite  Relics,"  are,  and  ever  will  be,  so 
potential  to  touch  the  Irish  heart  with  sadness  or  entlni- 
siasm,  under  a  thousand  forms  of  allegory  the  coming  of 
Prince  Charles,  the  restoration  of  the  ancient  faith,  and 
the  deliverance  of  Ireland  by  the  "  rightful  prince,"  are 


1  M'Gee. 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


501 


prophesied  and  apostrophied.  Now  it  is  "  Dark  Rosaleen ; " 
now  it  is  "  Kathaleen-na-Houlahan ;  "  now  it  is  the  "  Black- 
bird," the  "  Drimin  Don  Deelish,"  the  "  Silk  of  the  Kine," 
or  "  Ma  Chrevin  Evin  Algan  Og."  From  this  rich  store 
of  Gaelic  poetry  of  the  eighteenth  century  I  quote  one 
specimen,  a  poem  written  about  the  period  of  Charles 
Edward's  landing  at  Moidart,  by  William  Heffernan 
"  Dall "  the  Blind  ")  of  Shronehill,  county  Tipperary, 
and  addressed  to  the  Prince  of  Ossory,  Michael  Mac  GioUa 
Kerin,  known  as  Mehal  Dhu,  or  Dark  Michael.  The  trans- 
lation into  English  is  by  Mangan :  — 

"  Lift  up  the  drooping  head, 

Meehal  Dhu  Mac-Giolla-Kierin ; 
Her  blood  yet  boundeth  red 

Through  the  myriad  veins  of  Erin! 
No !  no  !  she  is  not  dead  — 

Meehal  Dhu  Mac-GioUa-Kierin ! 
Lo !  she  redeems 
The  lost  years  of  bygone  ages  — 

New  glory  beams 
Henceforth  on  her  history's  pages  ! 
Her  long  penitential  Night  of  Sorrow 
Yields  at  length  before  the  reddening  morrow ! 

You  heard  the  thunder-shout, 

Meehal  Dhu  Mac-Giolla-Kierin, 
Saw  the  lightning  streaming  out 

O'er  the  purple  hills  of  Erin ! 
And  bide  you  still  in  doubt, 

Meehal  Dhu  Mac-Giolla-Kierin? 
Oh  !  doubt  no  more ! 
Through  Ulidia's  voiceful  valleys, 

On  Shannon's  shore, 
Freedom's  burning  spirit  rallies. 
Earth  and  heaven  unite  in  sign  and  omen 
Bodeful  of  the  downfall  of  our  foe  men. 


602 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


"  Charles  leaves  the  Grampian  hills, 
Meehal  Dhu  Mac-Giolla-Kierin. 
Charles,  whose  appeal  yet  thrills 

Like  a  clarion-blast  through  Erin. 
Charles,  he  whose  image  fills 

Thy  soul  too,  Mac-Giolla-Kierin ! 
Ten  thousand  strong 
His  clans  move  in  brilliant  order, 

Sure  that  ere  long- 
He  will  march  them  o'er  the  border, 
While  the  dark-haired  daughters  of  the  Highlands 
Crown  with  wreaths  the  monarch  of  these  islands." 

But  it  was  only  in  the  passionate  poesy  of  the  native 
minstrels  that  any  echo  of  the  shouts  from  Moidart  re- 
sounded midst  the  hills  of  Erin.  During  all  this  time  the 
hapless  Irish  Catholics  resigned  themselves  utterly  to  the 
fate  that  had  befallen  them.  For  a  moment  victor}^  gleamed 
on  the  Stuart  banner,  and  the  young  prince  marched  south- 
ward to  claim  his  own  in  London.  Still  Ireland  made  no 
sign.  Hope  had  fled.  The  prostrate  and  exhausted  nation 
slept  heavily  in  its  blood-clotted  chain ! 


CHAPTER  LXXVI. 

HOW  IRELAND  BEGAN  TO  AWAKEN  FROM  THE  SLEEP  OF 
SLAVERY.  THE  DAWN  OF  LEGISLATIVE  INDEPEND- 
ENCE. 

RELAND  lay  long  in  that  heav}'  trance.  The 
signal  for  her  awakening  came  across  the  western 
ocean.    "  A  voice  from  America,"  says  Flood, 
''shouted  '  Liberty ; '  and  every  hill  and  valley  of 
this  rejoicing  island  answered,  '  Liberty  ! '  " 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


603 


For  two  centuries  the  claim  of  the  English  parliament 
to  control,  direct,  and  bind  the  Irish  legislature,  had  been 
the  subject  of  bitter  dispute.  The  claim  was  first  formally 
asserted  and  imposed  in  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Seventh, 
when  a  servile  parliament,"  gathered  at  Drogheda,  in 
November,  1495,  by  lord  deputy  Poynings,  amongst  other 
acts  of  self-degradation,  at  the  bidding  of  the  English 
official,  enacted  that  henceforth  no  law  could  be  originated 
in  the  Irish  legislature,  or  proceeded  with,  until  the  heads 
of  it  had  first  been  sent  to  England,  submitted  to  the  king 
and  council  there,  and  returned  with  their  approbation 
under  seal.  This  was  the  celebrated  Poynings'  Act,"  or 
Poynings'  Law,"  which  readers  of  Grattan's  Life  and 
Times  will  find  mentioned  so  frequently.  It  was  imposed 
as  a  most  secure  chain — a  ponderous  curb — at  a  crisis 
when  resistance  was  out  of  the  question.  It  was,  in 
moments  of  like  weakness  or  distraction,  submitted  to  ; 
but  ever  and  anon  in  flashes  of  spirit,  the  Irish  parlia- 
ments repudiated  the  claim  as  illegal,  unconstitutional,  and 
unjust.  On  the  16th  February,  1640,  the  Irish  House  of 
Commons  submitted  a  set  of  queries  to  the  judges,  the 
nature  of  which  may  be  inferred  from  the  question  — 
^'  Whether  the  subjects  of  this  kingdom  be  a  free  people, 
and  to  be  governed  only  by  the  common  laiv  of  England  and 
statutes  passed  in  this  kingdom  ?  "  When  the  answers  re- 
ceived  were  deemed  insufficient,  the  House  turned  the 
questions  into  the  form  of  resolutions,  and  proceeded  to 
vote  on  them,  one  by  one,  affirming  in  every  point  the 
rights,  the  liberties,  and  the  privileges  of  their  constituents. 
The  Confederation  of  Kilkenny  still  more  explicitly  and 
boldly  enunciated  and  asserted  the  doctrine  that  Ireland 
was  a  distinct,  free,  sovereign,  and  independent  nation, 
subject  only  to  the  triple  crown  of  the  three  kingdoms. 
The  Cromwellian  rebellion  tore  down  this,  as  it  trampled 
upon  so  many  other  of  the  rights  and  liberties  of  all  three 


504 


THE  STOIiV  OF  IRELAND. 


kingdoms.  The  restoration  "  came  ;  but  in  the  reign  of 
the  second  Charles,  the  Dublin  parliament  was  too  busy 
in  scrambling  for  retention  of  plunder  and  resistance  of 
restitution,  to  utter  an  aspiration  for  liberty ;  it  bowed  the 
neck  to  "  Poynings'  Law."  To  the  so-called  "  Catholic 
Parliament"  of  Ireland  in  James  the  Second's  reign  belongs 
the  proud  holaour  of  making  the  next  notable  declaration 
of  independence  ;  amongst  the  first  acts  of  this  legislature 
being  one  declaring  the  complete  and  perfect  freedom  of 
the  Irish  parliament.  "  Though  they  were  '  Papists,'  " 
says  Grattan,  "  these  men  were  not  slaves ;  they  wrung 
a  constitution  from  King  James  before  they  accompanied 
him  to  the  field."  Once  more,  however,  came  successful 
rebellion  to  overthrow  the  sovereign  and  the  parliament, 
and  again  the  doctrine  of  national  independence  disap- 
peared. The  Irish  legislature  in  the  first  years  of  the  new 
regime  sunk  into  the  abject  condition  of  a  mere  committee 
of  the  English  parliament. 

Soon,  however,  the  spirit  of  resistance  began  to  appear. 
For  a  quarter  of  a  century,  the  Protestant  party  had  been 
so  busy  at  the  work  of  persecution  —  so  deeply  occupied 
in  forging  chains  for  their  Catholic  fellow-countrymen  — 
that  they  never  took  thought  of  the  political  thraldom 
being  imposed  upon  themselves  by  the  English  parliament. 
"  The  Irish  Protestant,"  says  Mr.  Wyse,  had  succeeded 
in  excluding  the  Catholics  from  power,  and  for  a  moment 
held  triumphant  and  exclusive  possession  of  the  conquest ; 
but  he  was  merely  a  locum  tenens  for  a  more  powerful  con- 
queror, a  jackal  for  the  lion,  an  Irish  steward  for  an  Eng- 
lish master.  The  exclusive  system  was  turned  against 
him  ;  he  made  the  executive  exclusively  Protestant ;  the 
Whigs  of  George  the  First  made  it  almost  entirely  UnglisJi. 
His  victory  paved  the  way  for  another  far  easier  and  far 
more  important.    Popery  fell,  but  Ireland  fell  with  it."^ 


1  His.  Cath.  Association,  page  27. 


THE  STOEY  OF  IBELAND. 


605 


In  1719,  the  question  came  to  a  direct  issue.  In  a  lawsuit 
between  Hester  Sherlock,  appellant,  and  Maurice  Annes- 
ley,  respondent,  relating  to  some  propertj^  in  the  county 
Kildare,  the  Irish  Court  of  Exchequer  decided  in  favour 
of  the  respondent.  On  an  appeal  to  the  Irish  House  of 
Peers,  this  judgment  was  reversed.  The  respondent,  An- 
nesley,  now  appealed  to  the  Eyiglish  House  of  Peers  in 
England,  which  body  annulled  the  decision  of  the  Irish 
peers,  and  confirmed  that  of  the  Exchequer  Court.  The 
sheriff  of  Kildare,  how^ever,  recognizing  the  decision  of  the 
Irish  peers,  and  declining  to  recognize  the  jurisdiction  of 
the  English  tribunal,  refused  to  obey  an  order  calling  on 
him  to  put  Annesley  into  possession*  of  the  estate.  The 
Irish  Court  of  Exchequer  thereupon  inflicted  a  fine  upon 
the  sheriff.  The  Irish  peers  removed  the  fine,  and  voted 
that  the  sheriff  "had  behaved  with  integrity  and  courage." 
This  bold  course  evoked  the  following  galling  enactment 
by  the  English  House  :  — 

"  Whereas,  .  .  .  the  lords  of  Ireland  have  of  late,  against 
law,  assumed  to  themselves  a  power  and  jurisdiction  to 
examine  and  amend  the  judgments  and  decrees  of  the 
courts  of  justice  in  Ireland;  therefore,  etc.,  it  is  declared 
and  enacted,  etc.  .  .  .  that  the  King's  Majesty,  by  and 
with  the  advice  and  consent  of  the  lords  spiritual  and 
temporal  and  commons  of  Great  Britain  in  parliament 
assembled,  had,  hath,  and  of  right  ought  to  have,  full 
power  and  authority  to  make  laws  and  statutes  of  suffi- 
cient force  and  validity  to  bind  the  people  of  the  kingdom 
of  Ireland.  And  it  is  further  enacted  and  declared,  that 
the  House  of  Lords  of  Ireland  have  not,  nor  of  right 
ought  to  have,  any  jurisdiction  to  judge  of,  affirm,  or 
reverse  any  judgment,  etc.,  made  in  any  court  in  the  said 
kingdom." 

Here  was  "Po3aiings'  Law"  reenacted  with  savage  ex- 
plicitness ;  a  heavy  bit  set  between  the  jaws  of  the  restive 
Irish  legislature, 


506 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


This  rough  and  insulting  assertion  of  subjugation  stung 
the  Protestants  to  the  quick.  They  submitted ;  but  soon 
there  began  to  break  forth  from  amongst  them  men  who 
commenced  to  utter  the  words  Country  and  Patriotism. 
These ''rash"  and  extreme''  doctrinaires  were  long  al- 
most singular  in  their  views.  Wise  men  considered  them 
insane  when  they  "raved"  of  recovering  the  freedom  of 
parliament.  "  Repeal  Poynings'  Law  !  —  restore  the  heptar- 
chy !  "  cried  one  philosopher.  "  Liberate  the  parliament ! 
—  a  splendid  phantom!"  cried  another.  Nevertheless, 
the  so-called  doctrinaires  grew  in  popularity.  Their 
leader  was  the  Very  Rev.  Jonathan  Swift,  Protestant  dean 
of  St.  Patrick's.  His  precursor  was  William  Molyneux, 
member  for  the  Dublin  University,  who,  in  1691,  pub- 
lished the  first  great  argumentative  vindication  of  Irish 
legislative  independence  —  The  Case  of  Ireland  Stated, 
Immediately  on  its  appearance,  the  English  parliament 
took  alarm,  and  ordered  the  book  to  be  "  burned  by  the 
hands  of  the  common  hangman."  Swift  took  up  the  doc- 
trines and  arguments  of  Molyneux,  and  made  them  all- 
prevalent  atnongst  the  masses  of  the  people.     But  the 

upper  classes  "  thought  them  ''visionary  "  and  "imprac- 
ticable ;  "  nay,  seditious  and  disloyal.  Later  on  —  in  the 
middle  of  the  century  —  Dr.  Charles  Lucas,  a  Dublin 
apothecary,  became  the  leader  of  the  anti-EnglisIi  party. 
Of  course,  he  was  set  down  as  disaffected.  A  resolution 
of  the  servile  Irish  House  of  Commons  declared  him  "an 
enemy  to  his  country ; "  and  he  had  to  fly  from  Irelaud 
for  a  time.  His  popularity,  however,  increased,  and  the 
popular  suspicion  and  detestation  of  the  English  only  re- 
quired an  opportunity  to  exhibit  itself  in  overt  acts.  In 
1759,  a  rumour  broke  out  in  Dublin  that  a  legislative 
union  (on  the  model  of  the  Scotto-Engiish  amalgamation 
just  accomplished)  was  in  contemplation.  "  On  the  3d 
December,  the  citizens  rose  en  masse  and  surrounded  the 


THE  SrORY  OF  IRELAND. 


507 


houses  of  parliament.  They  stopped  the  carriages  of 
members,  and  obliged  them  to  swear  opposition  to  such  a 
measure.  Some  of  the  Protestant  bishops  and  the  chan- 
cellor were  roughly  handled ;  a  privy  councillor  was  thrown 
into  the  river;  the  attorney-general  was  wounded  and 
obliged  to  take  refuge  in  the  College;  Lord  Inchiquiii 
was  abused  till  he  said  his  name  was  O'Brien,  when  the 
rage  of  the  people  was  turned  into  acclamations.  The 
speaker,  Mr.  Ponsonby,  and  the  chief  secretary,  Mr.  Rigby, 
had  to  appear  in  the  porch  of  the  House  of  Commons, 
solemnly  to  assure  the  citizens  that  no  union  was  dreamed 
of,  and  if  it  was  proposed  that  they  would  be  the  first  to 
oppose  it."  1 

The  union  scheme  had  to  be  abandoned ;  and  Lucas 
soon  after  returned  from  exile,  to  wield  increased  power. 
The  ''seditious  agitator,"  the  solemnly  declared  ''enemy 
of  his  country,"  was  triumphantly  returned  to  parliament 
by  the  citizens  of  Dublin,  having  as  fellow-labourers,  re- 
turned at  the  same  time,  Hussey  Burgh  and  Henry  Flood. 
Lucas  did  not  live  to  enjoy  many  years  his  well-earned 
honours.  In  1770  he  was  followed  to  the  grave  by  every 
demonstration  of  national  regret.  "At  his  funeral  the 
pall  was  borne  by  the  Marquis  of  Kildare,  Lord  Charle- 
mont,  Mr.  Flood,  Mr.  Hussey  Burgh,  Sir  Lucius  O'Brien, 
and  Mr.  Ponsonby."  And  the  citizens  of  Dublin,  to  per- 
petuate the  memory  of  the  once  banished  "disloyalist," 
set  up  his  marble  statue  in  their  civic  forum,  where  it 
stands  to  this  day.^ 

While  the  country  was  thus  seething  with  discontent, 

1  M'Gee. 

2  Lucas  was,  politically,  a  thorough  nationalist,  but,  religiously,  a  bigot. 
The  Irish  nation  he  conceived  to  be  the  Irish  Protestants.  The  idea  of 
admitting  the  Catholics— the  mass  of  the  population  —  within  the  consti- 
tution, found  in  him  a  rabid  opponent.  Yet  the  Catholics  of  Ireland,  to 
their  eternal  honour,  have  ever  condoned  his  rabid  bigotry  against  them- 
selves, remembering  his  labours  for  the  principle  of  nationality. 


508 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


chafing  under  the  Poyning "  yoke,  there  rolled  across 
the  Atlantic  the  echoes  of  Bunker's  Hill ;  Protestant 
dominancy  paused  in  its  work  of  persecution,  and  bowed 
in  homage  to  the  divine  spirit  of  Liberty ! 


CHAPTER  LXXVn. 

HOW  THE  IRISH  VOLUNTEERS  ACHIEVED  THE  LEGISLA- 
TIVE INDEPENDENCE  OF  IRELAND ;  OR,  HOW  THE  MORAL 
FORCE  OF  A  CITIZEN  ARMY  EFFECTED  A  PEACEFUL, 
LEGAL,  AND  CONSTITUTIONAL  REVOLUTION. 

^^^^HE  first  effort  of  the  "  patriot  party,"  as  for  some 
years  past  they  had  been  called,  was  to  limit  the 
duration  of  parliaments  (at  this  time  elected  for 
the  life  of  the  king),  so  that  the  constituents 
might  oftener  have  an  opportunity  —  even  by  such  cum- 
brous and  wretchedly  ineffective  means  as  the  existing 
electoral  system  provided  —  of  judging  the  conduct  of 
their  members.  In  1760,  Lucas  and  his  fellow-nationalists 
succeeded  in  carrying  resolutions  for  heads  of  a  bill," 
limiting  the  parliaments  to  seven  years.  In  accordance 
with  Poynings'  Law,"  the  "  heads  "  were  transmitted  to 
London  for  sanction,  but  were  never  heard  of  more.  In 
1763,  they  were  again  carried  in  the  Irish  house,  again 
sent  to  London,  again  cancelled  there.  Irish  popular  feel- 
ing now  began  to  be  excited.  Again,  a  third  time,  the 
"  Septennial  Bill "  was  carried  through  the  Irish  Parlia- 
ment, again  sent  to  London,  and  again  ignominiously 
vetoed  there.  But  now  the  infatuation  of  England  had 
overleaped  itself.  A  spirit  was  aroused  in  Ireland  before 
which  the  government  quailed.    A  fourth  time,  amidst 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


609 


ominous  demonstrations  of  popular  determination,  the 
thrice  rejected  ''heads  of  a  bill"  were  sent  across.  This 
time  they  were  returned  approved  ;  but  the  seven  years 
were  altered  to  eight  years,  a  paltry  and  miserable  asser- 
tion of  mastery,  even  while  jdelding  under  fear.  But  the 
impartial  student  will  note  that  by  some  malign  fatality  it 
happens  that  even  up  to  the  present  hour  every  conces- 
sion granted  by  England  to  Irish  demands  was  invariably 
refused  till  passion  was  inflamed,  and  has  been  conceded 
only  on  compulsion.  The  concession  that,  had  it  been 
made  cheerfully  and  graciously  at  first,  might  have  elicited 
good  will  and  gratitude,  has  always  been  denied  as  long 
as  it  durst  for  safety  be  withheld,  and  been  granted  only 
when  some  home  or  foreign  difficulty  rendered  Irish  dis- 
content full  of  danger. 

Concessions  thus  made  are  taken  without  thanks,  and 
only  give  strength  and  determination  to  further  demands. 
The  patriot  party  followed  up  their  first  decisive  victory 
by  campaigns  upon  the  pension  list,  the  dependence  of 
the  judges,  the  voting  of  supply,  etc. ;  the  result  being 
continuous,  violent,  and  bitter  conflict  between  the  parlia- 
ment and  the  viceroy ;  popular  feeling  rising  and  intensi- 
fying, gaining  strength  and  force  every  hour. 

Meanwhile  America,  on  issues  almost  identical,  had 
taken  the  field,  and,  aided  by  France,  was  holding  Eng- 
land in  deadly  struggle.  Towards  the  close  of  the  year 
1779,  while  Ireland  as  well  as  England  was  denuded  of 
troops,  government  sent  warning  that  some  French  or 
American  privateers  might  be  expected  on  the  Irish  coast, 
but  confessing  that  no  regular  troops  could  be  spared  for 
local  defence.  The  people  of  Belfast  were  the  first  to 
make  a  significant  answer  to  this  warning,  by  enrolling 
volunteer  corps.  The  movement  spread  rapidly  through- 
out the  island,  and  in  a  short  time  the  government  with 
dismay  beheld  the  patriot  party  in  parliament  surrounded 


510 


THE  SrORY  OF  IRELAND. 


by  a  volunteer  army  filled  with  patriotic  ardour  and  en- 
thusiasm. Every  additional  battalion  of  volunteers  en- 
rolled added  to  the  moral  power  wielded  by  those  leaders, 
whose  utterances  grew  in  boldness  amidst  the  flashing 
swords  and  bayonets  of  a  citizen  army  one  hundred  thou- 
sand strong.  The  nation  by  this  time  had  become  unani- 
mous in  its  resolution  to  be  free  ;  a  corrupt  or  timid  group 
of  courtiers  or  placemen  alone  making  a  sullen  and  half- 
hearted fight  against  the  now  all-powerful  nationalists. 
Under  the  healing  influence  of  this  sentiment  of  patriot- 
ism, the  gaping  wounds  of  a  century  began  to  close.  The 
Catholic  slave,  though  still  outside  the  pale  of  the  consti- 
tution, forgot  his  griefs  and  his  wrongs  for  the  moment, 
and  gave  all  his  energies  in  aid  of  the  national  movement. 
He  bought  the  musket  w^hich  law  denied  to  himself  the 
right  to  bear,  and  placing  it  in  the  hand  of  his  Protestant 
fellow-countryman,  bade  him  go  forward  in  the  glorious 
work  of  liberating  their  common  fatherland. 

Free  trade  became  now  the  great  object  of  endeavour. 
The  trade  of  Ireland  at  this  time  had  been  almost  extin- 
guished by  repressive  enactments  passed  by  the  English 
parliament  in  London,  or  by  its  shadow  in  Dublin  in  by- 
gone years.  Immediately  on  the  accession  of  William  the 
Third,  the  English  lords  and  commons  addressed  the  king, 
praying  his  majesty  to  declare  to  his  Irish  subjects  that 
"the  growth  and  increase  of  the  woollen  manufacture  hath 
long  been,  and  will  ever  be  looked  upon  with  great  jeal- 
ousy," and  threatening  very  plainly  that  thej^  might  other- 
wise have  to  enact  veri/  strict  laivs  totally  to  abolish  the 
same''^  William  answered  them,  promising  to  do  ''all 
that  in  him  lay"  to  "discourage  the  woollen  manufacture 
there."  'T  were  long  to  trace  and  to  recapitulate  the  mul- 
tifarious laws  passed  to  crush  manufacture  and  commerce 


1  English  Lords'  Journal,  1(398,  pages  314,  315. 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


511 


of  all  kinds  in  Ireland  in  accordance  with  the  above-cited 
address  and  royal  promise.  Englishmen  in  our  day  are 
constantly  reproaching  Ireland  with  absence  of  manufac- 
tures and  commerce,  and  inviting  this  country  to  "  wake 
np"  and  compete  with  England  in  the  markets  of  the 
world.  This  may  be  malignant  sarcasm,  or  it  may  be  the 
ignorance  of  defective  information.  When  one  country 
has  been  by  law  forbidden  to  engage  in  manufactures  or 
commerce,  until  the  other  has  protected  and  nursed  her 
own  into  vigour  and  maturity,  and  has  secured  possession 
of  the  world's  markets,  the  invitation  to  the  long-restricted 
and  now  crippled  country  to  "  compete  "  on  the  basis  of 
free  trade,  is  as  much  of  a  mockery,  as  to  call  for  a  race 
between  a  trained  athlete  and  a  half-crippled  captive,  who 
has,  moreover,  been  forcibly  and  foully  detained  till  the 
other  has  neared  the  winning  post. 

To  liberate  Irish  trade  from  such  restraints  was  now  the 
resolve  of  the  patriot  party  in  the  Irish  parliament.  On 
the  12th  October,  1779,  they  carried  an  address  to  the 
viceroy,  declaring  that  "  by  free  trade  alone  "  could  the 
nation  be  saved  from  impending  ruin.  Again  England 
ungraciously  and  sourly  complied,  and  once  more  clogged 
her  compliance  with  embittering  addenda  !  These  conces- 
sions, which  the  secretary  of  state  was  assuring  the  Irish 
parliament  were  freely  bestowed  by  English  generosity, 
were  no  sooner  made  public  in  England  than  Mr.  Pitt 
had  to  send  circular  letters  to  the  manufacturing  towns, 
assuring  them  ''that  nothing  effectual  had  been  granted  in 
Ireland." 

But  the  Irish  leaders  were  now  about  to  crown  their  ' 
liberating  efforts  by  a  work  which  would  henceforth  place 
the  destinies  of  Irish  trade  beyond  the  power  of  English 
jealousy,  and  beneath  the  protecting  tegis  of  a  free  and 
independent  native  legislature.  On  the  19th  April,  1780, 
Grattan  moved  that  resolution  which  is  the  sum  and  sub- 


512 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


stance  in  its  simple  completeness  of  the  Irish  national 
constitutional  doctrine :  "  That  no  poioer  on  earthy  save 
that  of  the  king^  lords^  a7id  commons  of  Ireland^  has  a  right 
to  make  laws  to  bind  this  kingdom,''^ 

The  motion  was  unsuccessful ;  but  this  was  the  com- 
mencement of  the  great  struggle  ;  and  over  the  vital  issue 
now  raised  —  complete  legislative  independence  —  the  gov- 
ernment fought  with  an  unscrupulous  energy.  Through- 
out two  years  the  contest  was  pursued  with  unintermitting 
severity,  when  suddenly  Europe  was  electrified  by  the 
intelligence  that  the  British  armies  had  capitulated  to 
the  "rebel  colonists,"  and  the  ''star-spangled  banner"  ap- 
peared on  the  western  horizon,  proclaiming  the  birth  of 
a  new  power  "destined  to  be  the  terror  of  tyrants,  the  hope 
of  the  oppressed,  all  over  the  world. 

It  was  England's  day  of  humiliation  and  dismay.  By 
clutching  at  the  right  of  oppression  in  her  hour  of  fancied 
strength,  she  had  lost  America.  It  was  not  clear  tljat 
through  the  same  course  she  was  not  about  to  drive  Ire- 
land also  from  the  demand  for  legislative  independence 
into  the  choice  of  complete  separation. 

The  Ulster  volunteers  now  decided  to  hold  a  national 
convention  of  delegates  from  every  citizen  regiment  in  the 
province.  On  the  day  fixed  —  Friday,  15th  February, 
1782 — and  at  the  appointed  place  of  meeting  —  the 
Protestant  church  of  Dungannon,  county  Tyrone,  the 
convention  assembled ;  and  there,  amidst  a  scene  the  most 
glorious  witnessed  in  Ireland  for  years,  tlie  delegates  of 
the  citizen  army  solemnly  swore  allegiance  to  the  charter  of 
national  liberty,  denouncing  as  "  unconstitutional,  illegal, 
and  a  grievance,"  "  the  claim  of  any  body  of  men,  other 
than  the  king,  lords,  and  commons  of  Ireland  to  make 
laws  to  bind  this  kingdom."  The  Dungannon  resolutions 
were  enthusiastically  ratified  and  reasserted  by  the  several 
volunteer  corps,  the  municipal  corporations,  and  public 


THE  STORY  Ot"  W ELAND, 


513 


meetings,  all  over  the  island  ;  and  soon,  outside  the  circle 
of  corrupt  and  servile  castle  placemen,  no  voice  durst  be 
raised  against  the  demand  for  liberty. 

A  conciliatory,  that  is,  a  temporising  ministry  now  came 
into  power  in  London,  and  in  their  choice  of  lord  lieuten- 
ant for  Ireland  —  the  Duke  of  Portland  —  they  found  a 
very  suitable  man,  apparently,  for  their  designs  or  experi- 
ments. But  the  duke  ''on  his  arrival  found  the  nation  in 
a  state  in  which  neither  procrastination  nor  evasion  was 
any  longer  practicable."  He  reported  to  England  the 
danger  of  resistance  and  the  advisability  of  temporising, 
that  is,  of  yielding  as  little  as  possible,  but  yielding  all  if 
necessary.  Accordingly,  a  message  was  delivered  hy  the 
king  to  the  British  parliament,  setting  forth  "that  mis- 
trusts and  jealousies  had  arisen  in  Ireland,  and  that  it  was 
highly  necessary  to  take  the  same  into  immediate  consid- 
eration in  order  to  a  final  adjustment."  Meanwhile  the 
viceroy  in  Dublin  was  plausibly  endeavouring  to  wheedle 
Grattan  and  the  other  patriot  leaders  into  procrastination, 
or,  failing  this,  to  tone  down,  to  ''  moderate,"  the  terms  of 
the  popular  demand.  Happily  Grattan  was  sternly  firm. 
He  would  not  consent  to  even  a  day's  postponement  of 
the  question,  and  he  refused  to  alter  a  jot  of  the  national 
ultimatum.  An  eye  witness  has  described  for  us  the  great 
scene  of  the  16th  of  April,  1782  :  — 

Whoever  has  individually  experienced  the  sensation 
of  ardent  expectation,  trembling  suspense,  burning  impa- 
tience, and  determined  resolution,  and  can  suppose  all 
those  sensations  possessing  an  entire  nation,  may  form  some 
but  yet  an  inadequate  idea  of  the  feelings  of  the  Irish 
people  on  the  16th  of  April,  1782,  which  was  the  day  per- 
emptorily fixed  by  Mr.  Grattan  for  moving  that  declara- 
tion of  rights,  which  was  the  proximate  cause  of  Ireland's 
short-lived  prosperity,  and  the  remote  one  of  its  final 
overthrow  and  annexation.    So  high  were  the  minds  of 


514 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


the  public  wound  up  on  the  eve  of  that  momentous  da)^ 
that  the  volunteers  flew  to  their  arms  without  having  an 
enemy  to  encounter,  and,  almost  breathless  with  impa- 
tience, inquired  eagerly  after  the  probability  of  events, 
which  the  close  of  the  same  day  must  certainly  determine. 

Early  on  the  16th  of  April,  1782,  the  great  street  be- 
fore the  house  of  parliament  was  thronged  by  a  multitude 
of  people,  of  every  class  and  description,  though  many 
hours  must  elapse  before  the  house  would  meet,  or  busi- 
ness be  proceeded  with.  The  parliament  had  been  sum- 
moned to  attend  this  momentous  question  by  an  unusual 
and  special  call  of  the  house,  and  by  four  o'clock  a  full 
meeting  took  place.  The  body  of  the  House  of  Commons 
was  crowded  with  its  members,  a  great  proportion  of  the 
peerage  attended  as  auditors,  and  the  capacious  gallery 
which  surrounded  the  interior  magnificent  dome  of  the 
house  contained  above  four  hundred  ladies  of  the  highest 
distinction,  who  partook  of  the  same  national  fire  which 
had  enlightened  their  parents,  their  husbands,  and  their 
relatives,  and  by  the  sympathetic  influence  of  their  pres- 
ence and  zeal  they  communicated  an  instinctive  chivalrous 
impulse  to  eloquence  and  patriotism. 

''A  calm  but  deep  solicitude  was  apparent  on  almost 
every  countenance  when  Mr.  Grattan  entered,  accompa- 
nied by  Mr.  Brownlow  and  several  others,  the  determined 
and  important  advocates  for  the  declaration  of  Irish  inde- 
pendence. Mr.  Grattan's  preceding  exertions  and  anxiety 
liad  manifestly  injured  his  health ;  his  tottering  frame 
seemed  barely  sufficient  to  sustain  his  labouring  mind,  re- 
plete with  the  unprecedented  importance  and  responsibility 
of  the  measure  he  was  about  to  bring  forward."  ^ 

"  For  a  short  time,"  continues  Sir  Jonah  Barrington,  a 
profound  silence  ensued."    It  was  expected  tliat  Grattan 


1  Sir  Jonah  Barrington's  Tllf<e  and  Fall  of  the  Irish  yatio?i. 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


515 


would  rise ;  but,  to  the  mortification  and  confusion  of  the 
government  leaders,  he  kept  his  seat,  putting  on  them 
the  responsibility  of  opening  the  proceedings  and  of  fixing 
their  attitude  before  being  allowed  to  "  feel  their  way," 
as  they  greatly  desired  to  do.  The  secretary  of  state,  re- 
signing himself  to  the  worst,  thought  it  better  to  declare 
for  concession.  He  announced  that  "his  majesty,  being 
concerned  to  find  that  discontents  and  jealousies  were  pre- 
vailing amongst  his  loyal  subjects  in  Ireland  upon  matters 
of  great  weight  and  importance,  recommended  to  the  house 
to  take  the  same  into  their  most  serious  consideration,  in 
order  to  effect  such  n  final  adjustment  as  might  give  satis- 
faction to  both  kingdoms."  The  secretary,  however,  added, 
that  he  was  not  officially  authorised  to  say  more  than  to 
deliver  the  message. 

After  an  interval  of  embarrassing  silence  and  curiosity, 
Mr.  George  Ponsonby  rose,  and  moved  a  weak  and  pro- 
crastinating reply,  thanking  the  king  for  his  goodness 
and  condescension."  But  it  would  not  do»  The  national 
determination  was  not  to  be  trifled  with.  At  length,  after 
a  solemn  pause,  Grattan,  slowly  rising  from  his  seat,  com- 
menced "  the  most  luminous,  brilliant,  and  effective  oration 
ever  delivered  in  the  Irish  parliament ; "  a  speech  which, 
"  rising  in  its  progress,  applied  equally  to  the  sense,  the 
pride,  and  the  spirit  of  the  nation."  "  Amidst  an  univer- 
sal cry  of  approbation,"  he  concluded  by  moving  as  an 
amendment  to  Air.  Ponsonby 's  inconsequential  motion, 
the  ever-memorable  declaration  of  irtsh  independ- 
ence :  — 

"  That  the  kingdom  of  Ireland  is  a  distinct  kingdom,  with  a  parlia- 
ment of  her  own,  the  sole  legislature  thereof ;  that  there  is  no  body 
of  men  competent  to  make  laws  to  bind  the  nation,  but  the  king,  lords, 
and  commons  of  Ireland,  nor  any  parliament  which  hath  any  authority 
or  power  of  any  sort  whatever  in  tliis  country,  save  only  the  parlia- 
ment of  Ireland;  to  assure  his  majesty,  that  we  humbly  conceive  that 


TllK  srortY  OF  IB  EL  Ay  i). 


in  this  right  the  very  essence  of  our  liberty  exists,  a  right  which  we. 
on  the  part  of  all  the  people  of  Ireland,  do  claim  as  their  birthright, 
and  which  we  cannot  yield  but  with  our  lives." 

Grattan's  amendment  was  seconded  by  Mr.  Brownlow, 
member  for  Armagh  County,  in  point  of  wealth  and  repu- 
tation one  of  the  first  country  gentlemen  in  Ireland.  "  The 
whole  house,"  says  Barrington,  in  a  moment  caught  the 
patriotic  flame.  All  further  debate  ceased ;  the  speaker 
put  the  question  on  Mr.  Grattan's  amendment ;  an  unani- 
mons  shout  of  '  aye  '  burst  from  every  quarter  of  the  house. 
He  repeated  the  question.  The  applause  redoubled.  A 
moment  of  tumultuous  exultation  followed  :  and  after  cen- 
turies of  oppression,  Ireland  at  length  declared  herself  an 
independent  nation." 

Word  of  the  event  no  sooner  reached  the  impatient 
crowd  outside  the  building,  than  a  cry  of  joy  and  triumph 
burst  forth  all  over  the  city.  The  news  soon  spread 
through  the  nation,  and  the  rejoicings  of  the  people  were 
beyond  all  description ;  every  city,  town,  and  village 
in  Ireland  blazed  with  the  emblems  of  exultation,  and 
resounded  with  the  shouts  of  triumph." 

Never  was  a  new  nation  more  nobly  heralded  into  ex- 
istence !  Never  was  an  old  nation  more  reverently  and 
tenderly  lifted  up  and  restored  !  The  houses  adjourned  to 
give  England  time  to  consider  Ireland's  ultimatum.  Within 
a  month  it  was  accepted  by  the  new  British  administra- 
tion." The  "  visionary  "  and  impracticable  "  idea  had 
become  an  accomplished  fact.  The  ''splendid  phantom" 
had  become  a  glorious  reality.  The  heptarchy  had  not 
been  restored  ;  yet  Ireland  had  won  complete  legislative 
independence  I 


THE  STOEY  OF  IRELAXD. 


517 


CHAPTER  LXXVIII. 


WHAT  NATIONAL  INDEPENDENCE  ACCOMPLISHED  FOR  IRE- 
LAND. HOW  ENGLAND  ONCE  MORE  BROKE  FAITH  WITH 
IRELAND,  AND  REPAID  GENEROUS  TRUST  WITH  BASE 
BETRAYAL. 


F  mankind  needed  at  so  late  a  period  of  the  world's 
age  as  the  elgse  of  the  eighteenth  century,  any 
experiment  to  prove  the  substantial  benefits  of 
national  freedom,  the  progress  of  Ireland  during 
this  brief  but  bright  and  glorious  era  of  independence 
would  suffice  to  establish  the  fact  for  ever.  Happily,  when 
referring  to  the  events  of  that  time,  we  treat  of  no  remote 
period  of  history.  Living  men  remember  it.  Irishmen  of 
this  generation  have  listened  at  their  parent's  knee  to 
reminiscences  and  relations,  facts  and  particulars,  that 
mark  it  as  the  day  of  Ireland's  true,  real,  and  visible  pros-' 
perity.  Statistics  —  invulnerable  —  irrefragable  — full  of 
eloquence  —  momentous  in  their  meaning  —  attest  the 
same  truth.  ^Manufacture,  trade,  and  commerce  developed 
to  a  greater  extent  in  ten  years  of  native  rule  than  the}' 
had  done  in  the  previous  hundred  under  English  master}', 
and  in  a  much  greater  proportion  than  they  have  developed 
in  the  sixty-seven  years  of  subsequent  union  "  legislation, 
Ireland's  freedom  and  prosperity  did  not  mean  England's 
injury,  nor  England's  pause  in  the  like  onward  march. 
The  history  of  the  period  we  are  now  treating  of  disposes 
of  more  than  one  fallacy  used  by  the  advocates  of  Irisli 
national  extinction.  It  proves  that  Ireland's  right  does 
not  involve  England's  wrong.  Xever  before  were  the  two 
countries  more  free  from  jealousy,  rivalry,  or  liostilit\ . 


518 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


Never  before  was  discontent  banished  from  Ireland  —  as 
never  since  has  disaffection  been  absent.  ' 

Lust  of  dominion  —  sheer  covetousness  of  mastery  —  has 
in  all  ages  been  the  source  and  origin  of  the  most  wanton 
invasions  and  most  wicked  subjugations.  Not  even  amongst 
Englishmen  themselves  does  any  writer  now  hesitate  to 
characterise  as  nefarious,  treacherous,  and  abominable, 
the  scheme  by  which  England  invaded  and  overthrew  in 
1800  the  happily  established  freedom  of  Ireland.^ 

Scarcely  had  the  rusty  chain  of  "  Po3'nings'  Act "  been 
wrenched  ofP,  than  the  English  minister  began  to  consider 
how  a  stronger  one  might  be  forged^  and  bound  on  the  lib- 
erated Irish  nation  I  The  king's  voice  characterised  the 
happy  and  amicable  settlement  just  concluded  as  final,'' 
The  British  minister  and  the  British  parliament  in  the 
most  solemn  manner  declared  the  same  ;  and  surely  noth- 
ing but  morbid  suspiciousness  could  discover  fair  ground 
for  crediting  that  England  would  play  Ireland  false  upon 
that  promise  —  that  she  would  seize  the  earliest  opportu- 
nity of  not  merely  breaking  tluit  finaT  adjustment,"  and 
shackling  the  Irish  parliament  anew,  but  of  destroying  it 
utterly  and  for  ever.  Yet  there  were  men  amongst  the 
Irish  patriots  w^ho  did  not  hesitate  to  express  such  suspi- 
cions at  the  moment,  and  foremost  amongst  these  was 
Flood.  He  pressed  for  further  and  more  specific  and 
formal  renunciation.  Grattan,  on  the  other  hand,  vio- 
lently resisted  this,  as  an  ungenerous  effort  to  put  England 


1  English  readers  as  yet  uninformed  on  the  subject,  and  disposed  to  re- 
ceive with  hesitation  the  statements  of  Irish  writers  as  to  the  infamous 
means  resorted  to  by  the  English  government  to  overtlirow  the  Irish  con- 
stitution in  1800,  may  be  referred  to  the  Castlereagh  Papers  and  the  Corn- 
wallis  Correspondence  —  the  private  letters  of  the  chief  agents  in  the 
scheme.  Mr.  Massey,  chairman  of  committees  in  the  English  House  of 
Commons,  published,  a  few  years  ago,  a  volume  which  exposes  and  charac- 
terises that  nefarious  transaction  in  language  wliich  might  be  deemed  too 
strong  if  used  by  an  Irishman  feeling  the  wrong  and  sutTering  from  it. 


THE  STOUY  OF  IRELAND. 


619 


"on  her  knees"  —  to  humiliate  her  —  to  plainly  treat  her  as 
a  suspected  blackleg.  On  this  issue  the  two  patriot  leaders 
violently,  acrimoniously,  and  irreconcilably  quarrelled; 
Flood  and  his  following  contending  that  England  would 
surely  betray  Ireland  on  the  "  final  adjustment,"  and  Grat- 
tan,  with  the  bulk  of  the  national  party,  vehemently 
refusing  to  put  such  ungenerous  insult  and  indignity  on 
England  as  to  suppose  her  capable  of  such  conduct. 

Alas!  At  that  very  moment  —  as  the  now  published 
correspondence  of  the  English  statesmen  engaged  in  the 
transaction  discloses  ^  the  British  ministers  were  discuss- 
ing, devising,  and  directing  preparations  for  acconi})lisli- 
ing,  by  the  most  iniquitous  means,  that  crime  agaiubt 
Ireland  of  which  Grattan  considered  it  ungenerous  and 
wicked  to  express  even  a  suspicion  ! 

It  was  with  good  reason  the  national  party,  soon  after 
the  acomplishment  of  legislative  independence,  directed 
their  energies  to  the  question  of  parliamentary  relV)rm. 
The  legislative  body,  which  in  a  moment  of  great  public 
excitement  and  enthusiasm,  had  been  made  for  a  nKiiuent 
to  reflect  correctly  the  national  will,  was  after  all  returjied 
by  an  antique  electoral  system,  which  was  a  gross  farce  on 
representation.  Boroughs  and  seats  were  at  the  time  * 
openly  and  literally  otvned  by  particular  families  or  persons, 
the  voting  "  constituency  "  sometimes  not  being  more  than 
a  dozen  in  number.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  less  than  a  hun- 
dred persons  oivned  seats  or  boroughs  capable  of  making 
a  majority  in  the  commons. 

The  patriot  party  naturally  and  wisely  judged  that  with 
such  a  parliament  the  retention  of  freedom  would  be  pre- 
carious, and  the  representation  of  the  national  will  uncer- 
tain ;  so  the  question  of  parliamentary  reform  came  to  be 
agitated  with  a  vehemence  second  only  to  that  of  parlia- 
mentary independence  in  the  then  recent  camjDaign.  By 
this  time,  however,  the  British  minister  had  equally  de- 


520 


THE  6 TOBY 


OF  IHELAyD. 


tectecl,  that  while  with  such  a  parliament  he  might  accom- 
plish his  treacherous  designs,  with  a  parliament  really- 
amenable  to  the  people,  he  never  could.  Concealing  the 
real  motive  and  the  remote  object,  the  government,  through 
its  myriad  devious  channels  of  influence,  as  well  as  openly 
and  avowedly,  resisted  the  demand  for  reform.  Apart 
from  the  government,  the  "  vested  interests  "  of  the  ex- 
isting system  were  able  to  make  a  protracted  fight.  Ere 
long  both  these  sections  were  leagued  together,  and  they 
hopelessly  outnumbered  the  popular  party. 

The  government  now  began  to  feel  itself  strong,  and  it 
accordingly  commenced  the  work  of  deliberately  destro}'- 
ing  the  parliament  of  Ireland.  Those  whom  it  could  in- 
fluence, purchase,  or  corrupt,  were  one  by  one  removed  or 
bought  in  market  overt.  Those  who  were  true  to  honour 
and  duty,  it  insolently  threatened,  insulted,  and  assailed. 
The  popular  demands  were  treated  with  defiance  and  con- 
tumely by  the  minister  and  his  co-conspirators.  Soon  a 
malign  opportunity  presented  itself  for  putting  Ireland 
utterly,  hopelessly,  helplessly  into  their  hands  —  the  sheep 
committed  to  the  grasp  of  the  wolf  for  security  and  pro- 
tection ! 


CHAPTER  LXXIX. 

HOW  THE  ENGLISH  MINISTER  SAV^"  HIS  ADVANTAGE  IN 
PROVOKING  IRELAND  INTO  AN  ARMED  STRUGGLE  ; 
AND  HOW  HEARTLESSLY  HE  LABOURED  TO  THAT  END. 

HILE  these  events  were  transpiring  in  Ireland 
the  French  revolution  had  burst  forth,  shaking 
the  whole  fabric  of  European  society,  rending 
old  systems  with  the  terrible  force  of  a  newly- 
appeared  explosive  power.     Evei  v where  its  effects  were 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


521 


felt.  Everywhere  men  were  struck  with  wonder.  Every- 
where the  subtle  intoxication  of  the  revolutionary  doc- 
trmes  symbolized  by  the  terrible  drapeau  rouge.,  fired  the 
blood  of  political  enthusiasts.  Some  hailed  the  birth  of 
the  French  republic  as  the  avatar  of  freedom  ;  ^  others 
saw  in  it  the  incarnation  of  anarchy  and  infidelity  ;  an 
organized  war  upon  social  order  and  upon  the  Christian 
religion.  It  instantly  arrayed  all  Europe  in  two  fiercely 
hostile  camps.  Each  side  spoke  and  acted  with  a  passion- 
ate energy.  Old  parties  and  schools  of  political  thought 
were  broken  up ;  old  friendships  and  alliances  were  sun- 
dered for  ever,  on  the  question  whether  the  French  revo- 
lution was  an  emanation  from  hell  or  an  inspiration  from 
heaven. 


1  The  sentiments  evoked  in  the  breasts  of  most  Irish  patriots  by  the  first 
outburst  and  subsequent  proceedings  of  the  Frt-nch  revolution  —  enthusi- 
asm, joy,  and  hope,  followed  by  gi'ief ,  horror,  and  despair  —  have  been 
truthfullj^  expressed  by  ^Nloort;  in  the  following  matchless  verses:  — 

'  T  iej  gone  and  for  ever  —  the  light  we  8iiw  breaking 

Like  heaven't*  firnt  dawn  o'er  the  sleep  of  the  dead : 
AVlien  man  from  the  shiniber  of  agee  awaking. 

Looked  upward  and  bU'!<.<ed  liie  pure  ray  ei'e  it  fled. 
'Tis  gone  —  and  tlie  gleams  it  has  left  of  its  burning 
But  deepen  the  long  night  of  bondage  and  mourning 
That  dark  o'er  the  khigdoms  of  earth  is  returning, 
And  darkest  of  ali.  hapless  Erin,  o'er  thee. 

"  For  high  was  thy  hope  when  those  glories  were  darting 
Around  thee  through  all  the  gross  clouds  of  the  world; 

WTien  Truth,  from  lier  fetters  indignantly  starting, 
At  once  like  a  sunburst  lier  banner  unfurled  I 

Oh!  never  shall  earth  see  a  moment  so  splendid. 

Then  —  then  —  had  one  Hymn  of  Deli\^rance  blended 

The  tongues  of  all  nations,  how  sweet  had  ascended 
The  first  note  of  liberty.  Erin,  from  thee  I 

'*  But  shame  on  those  tyrants  who  envied  the  blessing, 

And  shame  on  the  light  race  unworthy  its  good, 
Who  at  Death's  reeking  altar,  like  furies  caressing 

The  young  hope  of  Ereedom,  baptized  it  in  blood  I 
Then  vanished  for  ever  tliat  fair  sunny  vision 
Which,  spite  of  the  slavish,  ihe  o^ld  heart's  derision, 
Shall  long  be  remembered  —  pure,  bright,  and  elysian, 

As  first  it  arose,  my  lost  Erin,  on  thee! 


522 


THE  STORY  OF  IHELANI), 


Ireland,  so  peculiarly  circumstanced,  could  not  fail  to  be 
powerfully  moved,  by  the  great  drama  unfolded  before  the 
world  in  Paris.  Side  bj^  side  with  the  march  of  events 
there,  from  1789  to  1795,  was  the  revelation  of  England's 
treason  against  the  final  adjustment  "  of  Irish  national 
rights,  and  the  exasperating  demeanour,  language,  and 
action  of  the  government  in  its  now  avowed  determination 
to  conquer  right  by  might. 

Towards  the  close  of  1791,  Theobald  Wolfe  Tone  —  a 
young  Protestant  barrister  of  great  ability,  who  had  de- 
voted himself  to  the  service  of  the  Catholics  in  their  efforts 
for  emancipation  —  visiting  Belfast  (then  the  centre  and 
citadel  of  democratic  and  liberal,  if  not  indeed  of  repub- 
lican opinions),^  met  there  some  of  the  popular  leaders. 
They  had  marked  the  treacherous  conduct  of  the  govern- 
ment, and  they  saw  no  hope  for  averting  the  ruin  designed 
for  Ireland,  save  in  a  union  of  all  Irishmen,  irrespec- 
tive of  creed  or  class,  in  an  open,  legal,  and  constitu- 
tional organization  for  the  accomplishment  oi parliamentary 
reform  and  Catholic  emancipation.  Such  an  organization 
they  forthwith  established.  Tone,  on  his  return  to  Dublin, 
pushed  its  operations  there,  and  it  soon  embraced  every  man 
of  note  on  the  people's  side  in  politics.  The  association 
thus  established  was  called  the  Society  of  United  Irishmen. 
For  some  time  it  pursued  its  labours  zealously,  and,  as  its 
first  principles  exacted,  openly,  legalh',  and  constitution- 
ally towards  the  attainment  of  its  most  legitimate  objects. 
But  the  government  was  winning  against  the  United  Irish 
leaders  by  strides  —  pandering  to  the  grossest  passions  and 
vices  of  the  oligarchical  party,  now  seduloush^  inflamed 
against  all  popular  opinions  by  the  mad-dog  cry  of  "  French 
principles."  One  by  one  the  popular  leaders  tired  in  the 
hopeless  struggle  —  were  overpowered  by  despair  of  resist- 


1  In  July  of  that  j^ear  (ITiH),  the  French  revohition  was  celebrated  with 
military  ])(nn]>  in  Belfast  l)y  the  armed  volunteers  and  townspeox)le, 


THE  STORY  OF  lllELAyi). 


523 


ing  the  gross  and  naked  tyranny  of  tlie  government,  which 
was  absolutely  and  designedly  pushing  them  out  of  con- 
stitutional action.  Some  of  them  retired  from  public  life. 
Others  of  them  yielded  to  the  conviction  that  outside  the 
constitution,  if  not  within  it,  the  struggle  might  be  fought, 
and  the  United  Irishmen  gradually  became  an  oath-bound 
secret  society. 

From  the  first  hour  when  an  armed  struggle  came  to  be 
contemplated  by  the  United  Irish  leaders,  they  very  natu- 
rally fixed  their  hopes  on  France ;  and  envoys  passed  and 
repassed  between  them  and  the  French  Directory.  The 
government  had  early  knowledge  of  the  fact.  It  was  to 
them  news  the  most  welcome.  Indeed  they  so  clearly  saw 
their  advantage — their  certain  success — in  arraying  on 
their  side  all  who  feared  a  Jacobin  revolution,  and  in 
identifying  in  the  minds  of  the  property  classes  anti- 
Englishism  with  revolution  and  infidelity,  that  their 
greatest  anxiety  was  to  make  sure  that  the  United 
Irishmen  would  go  far  enough  and  deep  enough  into  the 
scheme.  And  the  government  left  nothing  undone  to 
secure  that  result. 

Meanwhile  the  society  in  its  new  character  extended 
itself  with  marvellous  success.  Its  organization  was 
ingenious,  and  of  course  its  leaders  believed  it  to  be 
''spy-proof."  Nearly  Ar<(f  a  million  earnest  and  deter- 
mined men  were  enrolled,  and  a  considerable  portion  of 
them  were  armed  either  wath  pikes  or  muskets.  Indeed, 
for  a  moment  it  seemed  not  unlikely  that  tlie  government 
conspirators  might  find  they  had  over-shot  their  own  pur- 
pose, and  had  allowed  the  organization  to  develop  too  far. 
Up  to  1796  they  never  took  into  calculation  as  a  serious 
probability  that  France  would  really  cast  her  powerful  aid 
into  the  scale  with  Ireland.  In  the  instant  when  England, 
startled  beyond  conception,  was  awakened  to  lier  error  on 
tliis  point  by  tlie  appearance  in  Rantrv  Bay,  in  r)eceml)er. 


624 


THE  STORY  OF  IHELANI). 


1796,  of  a  formidable  expedition  under  Hoche  ^  —  a  sense 
of  danger  and  alarm  possessed  her,  and  it  was  decided  to 
burst  up  the  insurrectionary  design  — •  to  fo7xe  it  into  con- 
flict at  once;  —  the  peril  now  being  that  the  armed  and 
organized  Irish  might  "bide  their  time." 

To  drive  the  Irish  into  the  field  —  to  goad  them  into 
action  in  the  hour  of  England's  choice,  not  their  own  — 
was  the  problem.  Its  accomplishment  was  arrived  at  by- 
proceedings  over  which  the  historical  writer  or  student 
shudders  in  horror.  Early  in  1796,  an  Insurrection  Act 
was  passed,  making  the  administration  of  an  oath  identi- 
cal with  or  similar  to  that  of  the  United  Irishmen  pun- 
ishable wdth  death!  An  army  of  fifty  thousand  men, 
subsequently  increased  to  eighty  thousand,  was  let  loose 
upon  the  country  on  the  atrocious  system  of  "free  quar- 
ters." Irresponsible  power  was  conferred  on  the  military 
officers  and  local  magistracy.  The  yeomanry,  mainly  com- 
posed of  Orangemen,  were  quartered  on  the  most  Catholic 
districts,  while  the  Irish  militia  regiments  suspected  of  any 
sympathy  with  the  population  were  shipped  off  to  England 
in  exchange  for  foreign  troops.  "  The  military  tribunals 
did  not  wait  for  the  idle  formalities  of  the  civil  courts. 
Soldiers  and  civilians,  yeomen  and  townsmen,  against 
whom  the  informer  pointed  hi6  finger,  were  taken  out  and 
summarily  executed.  Ghastly  forms  hung  upon  the  thick- 
set gibbets,  not  onh'  in  tlie  market  places  of  the  country 
towns  and  before  the  public  prisons,  but  on  all  tlie  bridges 
of  the  metropolis.  The  horrid  torture  of  picketing,  and 
the  blood-stained  lash,  were  constantly  resorted  to,  to 
extort  accusations  or  confessions."  ^    Lord  Holland  gives 

1  This  expedition  had  been  obtained  from  the  French  Directory  by  the 
energy  and  perseverance  of  Wolfe  Tone,  who  had  been  obliged  to  fiy  from 
Ireland.  It  was  dispersed  by  a  storm  —  a  hurricane  —  as  it  lay  in  Bantry 
Bay  waiting  the  arrival  of  the  commander's  ship.  This  storm  saved  the 
English  power  in  Ireland, 

-  M'Gee. 


THE  STORY  OF  IB  EL  AND. 


526 


Us  a  like  picture  of  "  burning  cottages,  tortured  backs,  and 
frequent  executions."  The  fact  is  incontrovertible,"  he 
says,  "  that  the  people  of  Ireland  were  driven  to  resistance 
(which,  possibly,  they  meditated  before)  by  the  free  quar- 
ters and  excesses  of  the  soldiery,  which  were  such  as  are 
not  permitted  in  civilized  warfare  even  in  an  enemy's  coun- 
try. Dr.  Dickson,  Lord  Bishop  of  Down,  assured  me  that 
he  had  seen  families  returning  peaceably  from  Mass,  as- 
sailed without  provocation  by  drunken  troops  and  yeo- 
manry, and  their  wives  and  daughters  exposed  to  every 
species  of  indignity,  brutality,  and  outrage,  from  which 
neither  his  (the  bishop's)  remonstrances,  nor  those  of  other 
Protestant  gentlemen,  could  rescue  them."^ 

Xo  wonder  the  gallant  and  humane  Sir  John  Moore  — 
appalled  at  the  infamies  of  that  lustful  and  brutal  soldiery, 
and  unable  to  repress  his  sympathj'  with  the  l.iapless  Irish 
peasantry  —  should  have  exclaimed,  "  If  1  were  an  Irish- 
man^ I  would  he  a  rebel  I^' 


CHAPTER  LXXX. 

HOW  THE  BRITISH  MINISTER  FORCED  ON  THE  RISING. 
THE  FATE  OF  THE  BRAVE  LORD  EDWARD.  HOW  THE 
BROTHERS  SHE  ARES  DIED  H  AND-IX-HAND.  THE  RIS- 
ING OF  NINETY-EIGHT, 

HILE  the  government,  by  such  frightful  agen- 
cies, was  trying  to  foy^ce  an  insurrection,  the 
United    Irish   leaders   were   straining  every 
energy  to  keep  the  people  in  restraint  until 
such  time  as  they  could  strike  and  not  strike  in  vain. 


1  Lord  HoUand,  Memoirs  of  (he  Whig  Party. 


626 


tht:  sTonr  of  ihelanJ), 


But  in  this  dreadful  game  the  government  was  sure  to 
win  eventually.  By  a  decisive  blow  at  the  Society,  on  the 
12th  March,  1798,  it  compelled  the  United  Irishmen  to 
take  the  field  forthwith  or  perish.  This  was  the  seizure, 
on  that  day,  in  one  swoop,  of  the  Supreme  Council  or 
Directory,  with  all  its  returns,  lists,  and  muster-rolls, 
while  sitting  in  deliberation,  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Oliver 
Bond  (one  of  the  council)  in  Bridge  Street,  Dublin. 

This  terrible  stroke  was  almost  irreparable.  One  man, 
however,  escaped  by  the  accident  of  not  having  attended, 
as  he  intended,  that  day's  council  meeting ;  and  him  of  all 
others  the  government  desired  to  capture.  This  was  Lord 
Edward  Fitzgerald,  son  of  the  Duke  of  Leinster,  command- 
er-in-chief of  the  United  Irish  military  organization. 

Of  all  the  men  who  have  given  their  lives  in  the  fatal 
struggle  against  the  English  yoke,  not  one  is  more  en- 
deared to  Irish  popular  affection  than  Lord  Edward." 
While  he  lived  he  was  idolized ;  and  \vith  truth  it  may  be 
said  his  memory  is  embalmed  in  a  nation's  tears.  He  had 
every  quality  calculated  to  win  the  hearts  of  a  people  like 
the  Irish.  His  birth,  his  rank,  his  noble  lineage,  his 
princely  bearing,  his  handsome  person,  his  frank  and 
chivalrous  manner,  his  generous,  warm-hearted  nature,  his 
undaunted  courage,  and,  above  all,  his  ardent  patriotism, 
combined  to  render  Lord  Edward  the  heait  ideal  of  a  popu- 
lar leader.  He  was,"  says  a  writer  whose  labours  to  as- 
sure the  fame  and  vindicate  in  history  the  gallant  band  of 
whom  the  youthful  Geraldine  was  amongst  the  foremost, 
should  never  be  forgotten  by  Irishmen  —  as  playful  and 
humble  as  a  child,  as  mild  and  timid  as  a  lady,  and,  wlien 
necessary,  as  brave  as  a  lion."  ^ 

Such  was  the  man  on  whose  head  a  price  of  one  thousand 
pounds  was  now  set  by  the  government.    On  the  arrest 


1  Dr.  K.  R.  Madden,  Lives  and  Times  of  the  United  Irishmen. 


THE  STonr  OF  IBKLAND. 


527 


of  the  directory  at  Bond's,  three  men  of  position  and 
ability  stepped  forward  into  the  vacant  council-seats ;  the 
brothers  John  and  Henry  Sheares,  and  Doctor  Lawless; 
and  upon  these  and  Lord  Edward  now  devolved  the  re- 
sponsibility of  controlling  the  organization.  Lord  Edward 
insisted  on  an  immediate  rising.  He  saw  that  by  the  aid 
of  spies  and  informers  the  government  was  in  possession 
of  their  inmost  secrets,  and  that  everj'  day  would  be 
ruining  their  organization.  To  wait  further  for  aid  from 
France  would  be  utter  destruction  to  all  their  plans.  Ac- 
cordingly, it  was  decided  that  on  the  23d  May  next  follow- 
ing, the  standard  of  insurrection  should  be  unfurled,  and 
Ireland  appeal  to  the  ultima  ratio  of  oppressed  nations. 

The  government  heard  this,  through  their  spies,  Avith  a 
sense  of  relief  and  of  diabolical  satisfaction.  Efforts  to 
secure  Lord  Edward  were  now  pursued  with  desperate 
activity ;  yet  he  remained  in  Dublin  eluding  his  enemies 
for  eight  weeks  after  the  arrests  at  Bond's,  guarded,  con- 
voj^ed,  sheltered  by  the  people  with  a  devotion  for  whicli 
history  has  scarcely  a  parallel.  The  23d  of  May  was 
approaching  fast,  and  still  Lord  Edward  was  at  large. 
The  Castle  conspirators  began  to  fear  that  after  all  their 
machinations  they  might  find  themselves  face  to  face  with 
an  Irish  Washington.  Within  a  few  days,  however,  of  the 
ominous.  23d,  treason  gave  them  the  victory,  and  placed 
the  noble  Geraldine  within  their  grasp. 

On  the  night  of  the  18th  May,  he  was  brought  to  tlie 
house  of  a  Mr.  Nicholas  Murphy,  a  feather  merchant,  of 
153  Thomas  Street.  He  had  been  secreted  in  this  same 
liouse  before,  but  had  been  removed,  as  it  was  deemed 
essential  to  change  his  place  of  concealment  very  fre- 
quently. After  spending  sDme  short  time  at  each  of 
several  other  places  in  the  interval,  he  w^as,  on  the  night 
already  mentioned,  a  second  time  brought  to  Mr.  Mur- 
phy's house.    On  the  evening  of  the  next  day,  Lord 


THE  STORY  OF  TR ELAND. 


Edward,  after  dining  with  his  host,  retired  to  his  chamber, 
intending  to  lie  down  for  a  while,  being  suffering  from  a 
cold.  Mr.  Murphy  followed  him  up  stairs  to  speak  to 
him  about  something,  when  the  noise  of  feet  softly  but 
quickly  springing  up  the  stair  caught  his  ear,  and  in- 
stantly the  door  was  thrown  open  and  a  police  magistrate 
named  Swan,  accompanied  by  a  soldier,  rushed  into  the 
room.  Lord  Edward  was  lying  on  the  bed  with  his  coat 
and  vest  off.  He  sprang  from  the  bed,  snatching  from 
under  the  pillow  a  dagger.  Swan  thrust  his  right  hand 
into  an  inside  breast  pocket  where  his  pistols  were  ;  but 
Lord  Edward,  diyining  the  object,  struck  at  that  spot,  and 
sent  his  dagger  through  Swan's  hand,  penetrating  his 
body.  Swan  shouted  that  he  was  "murdered;"  neverthe- 
less, with  his  wounded  hand  he  managed  to  draw  his 
pistol  and  fire  at  Lord  Edward.  The  shot  missed  ;  but  at 
this  moment  another  of  the  police  party,  named  Ryan  (a 
yeomanry  captain),  rushed  in,  armed  with  a  drawn  cane- 
sword,  and  Major  Sirr,  with  half  a  dozen  soldiers,  hurried 
up  stairs.  Ryan  flung  himself  on  Lord  Edward,  and 
tried  to  hold  him  down  on  the  bed.  but  he  could  not,  and 
the  pair,  locked  in  deadly  combat,  rolled  upon  the  floor. 
Lord  Edward  received  some  deadly  thrusts  from  Ryan's 
sword,  but  he  succeeded  in  freeing  his  right  hand,  and 
quick  as  he  could  draw  his  arm.  plunged  the  dagger 
again  and  again  into  Ryan's  body.  Tlie  yeomanry  cap- 
tain, though  wounded  mortally  all  over,  was  still  strug- 
gling with  Lord  Edward  on  the  floor  when  Sirr  and  the 
soldiers  arrived.  Sirr,  pistol  in  hand,  feared  to  grapple 
with  the  enraged  Geraldine  ;  but,  watching  his  oppor- 
tunity, took  deliberate  aim  at  h\m  and  fired.  The  ball 
struck  Lord  Edward  in  the  right  shoulder ;  the  dagger 
fell  from  his  grasp,  and  Sirr  and  the  soldiers  flung  them- 
selves upon  him  in  a  body.  Still  it  required  their  ut- 
most efforts  to  hold  him  down,  some  of  them  stabbing 


THE  STOnr  OF  in  EL  A  XT). 


529 


and  liacking  at  liiiu  \Nitli  shortened  swords  and  clubbed 
pistols,  while  others  held  him  fast.  At  length,  weakened 
from  wounds  and  loss  of  blood,  he  fainted.  They  took  a 
sheet  off  the  bed  and  rolled  the  almost  inanimate  body  iu 
it,  and  dragged  their  victim  down  the  narrow  stair.  The 
floor  of  the  room,  all  over  blood,  an  eye-witness  says, 
resembled  a  slaughter-house,  and  even  the  walls  were 
dashed  with  gore. 

Meantime  a  crowd  had  assembled  in  the  street,  attracted 
by  the  presence  of  the  soldiers  around  the  house.  The 
instant  it  became  known  that  it  was  Lord  Edward  that  had 
been  captured,  the  people  flung  themselves  on  the  militarj^ 
and  after  a  desperate  struggle  had  overpowered  them  but 
for  the  arrival  of  a  large  body  of  cavalry,  who  eventually 
succeeded  in  bringing  off  Lord  Edward  to  the  Castle. 

Here  his  wounds  were  dressed.  On  being  told  by  the 
doctor  that  they  were  not  likely  to  prove  fatal,  he  ex- 
claimed :  I  am  sorry  to  hear  it.''  He  was  removed  to 
Newgate,  none  of  his  friends  being  allowed  access  to  hiip 
mtil  the  3d  of  June,  when  they  were  told  that  he  teas  dying! 
His  aunt.  Lady  Louisa  Connolly,  and  his  brother.  Lord 
Henry  Fitzgerald,  were  then  permitted  to  see  him.  Tliey 
found  him  delirious.  As  he  lay  on  his  fever  pallet  in  the 
dark  and  narrow^  cell  of  that  accursed  bastile,  his  ears  w^ere 
dinned  with  horrid  noises  that  his  brutal  jailei^  took  care 
to  tell  him  were  caused  by  the  workmen  erecting  barriers 
around  the  gallows  fixed  for  a  forthcoming  execution. 

Next  day,  4th  June,  1798,  he  expired.  As  he  died  un- 
convicted, his  body  was  given  up  to  his  friends,  but  only  on 
condition  that  no  funeral  would  be  attempted.  In  the  dead 
of  night  they  conveyed  the  last  remains  of  the  noble  Lord 
Edward  from  Newgate  to  the  Kildare  vault  beneath  St. 
Werburgh's  Protestant  Church,  Dublin,  where  they  now 
repose. 

A  few  days  after  Lord  Edward's  capture  —  on  Monday, 


530 


TIIK  STOnr  OF  IRELAXD. 


21st  May  —  the  brothers  Sheares  were  arrested,  one  at 
his  residence  in  Lower  Baggot  Street,  the  other  at  a 
friend's  house  in  French  Street,  having  been  betra3'ed  by 
a  government  agent  named  Armstrong,  wlio  had  wormed 
himself  into  their  friendship  and  confidence  for  the  pur- 
pose of  effecting  their  rnin.  On  the  evening  previous  to 
their  capture  he  was  a  guest  in  the  bosom  of  their  family, 
sitting  at  their  fireside,  fondling  on  his  knee  the  infant 
child  of  one  of  the  victims,  whose  blood  was  to  drip  from 
the  scaffold  in  Green  Street,  a  few  weeks  later,  through 
his  unequalled  infamy  I 

On  the  12th  July,  John  and  Henry  Sheares  were 
brought  to  trial,  and  the  fiend  Armstrong  appeared  on  the 
witness  table  and  swore  away  their  lives.  Two  days  after- 
wards the  martyr-brothers  were  executed,  side  by  side. 
Indeed  they  fell  through  the  drop  ha7id  clasped  in  hand, 
having,  as  they  stood  blindfolded  on  the  trap,  in  the  brief 
moment  before  the  bolt  was  drawn,  by  an  instinct  of  holy 
affection  strong  in  death,  each  one  reached  out  as  best  he 
could  his  pinioned  hand,  and  grasped  that  of  his  brother ! 

The  capture  of  Lord  Edward,  so  quickly  followed  by 
the  arrest  of  the  brothers  Sheares,  was  a  death-blow  to  the 
insurrection,  as  far  as  concerned  any  preconcerted  move- 
ment. On  the  night  of  the  appointed  day  an  abortive 
rising  took  place  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  metropolis. 
On  the  same  day  Kildare,  Lord  Edward's  county,  took  the 
field,  and  against  hopeless  disadvantages  made  a  gallant 
stand.  Meath  also  kept  its  troth,  as  did  Down  and  An- 
trim in  the  north  keep  theirs,  but  only  to  a  like  bloody 
sacrifice,  and  in  a  few  days  it  seemed  that  all  was  over. 
But  a  county  almost  free  from  complicity  in  the  organiza- 
tion, a  county  in  whicli  no  one  on  either  side  had  appre- 
hended revolt,  was  now  about  to  show  the  world  what 
Irish  peasants,  driven  to  desperation,  defending  their 
homes  and  altars,  could  dare  and  do.    Wexford,  heroic 


THE  sTOnr  OF  inELAXD. 


531 


and  glorious  AVexford,  was  now  about  to  show  that  even 
07ie  county  of  Irehuid's  tJii wo  could  engage  more  than 
half  the  available  arm}-  of  England ! 

Wexford  rose,  not  in  obedience  to  any  call  from  the 
United  Irish  organization,  but  purely  and  solely  from  the 
instinct  of  self-preseryation.  Although  there  was  proba- 
bly no  district  in  Ireland  so  free  from  participation  in  the 
designs  of  that  association  (there  were  scarcely  two  hun- 
dred enrolled  United' Irishmen  amongst  its  entire  popula- 
tion), all  the  horrors  of  free-quarters  and  martial  law  had 
been  let  loose  on  the  county.  Atrocities  that  sicken  the 
heart  in  their  contemplation,  filled  with  terror  the  homes 
of  that  peaceful  and  inoflfensiye  people.  The  midnight 
skies  were  reddened  with  the  flames  of  burning  cottages, 
and  the  glens  resounded  with  shrieks  of  agon3%  yengeance, 
and  despair.  Homes  desolated,  female  yirtue  made  the 
victim  of  crimes  that  cannot  be  named,  the  gibbet  and  the 
triangle  erected  in  everj'  hamlet,  and  finally,  the  temples 
of  God  desecrated  and  given  to  the  torch,  left  manhood  in 
Wexford  no  choice  but  that  which  to  its  eternal  honour  it 
made. 

Well  and  bravely  Wexford  fought  that  fight.  It  was 
the  wild  rush  to  arms  of  a  tortured' peasantry,  unprepared, 
unorganized,  unarmed.  Yet  no  Irishman  has  need  to  ''hang 
his  head  for  shame  when  men  speak  of  gallant  Wexford 
in  Ninety-eight.  Battle  for  battle,  the  men  of  that  count}' 
beat  the  best  armies  of  the  king,  until  their  relative  forces 
became  out  of  all  proportion.  Neither  Tell  in  Switzerland 
nor  Hofer  in  the  Tyrol  earned  immortality  more  glori- 
ously than  that  noble  band  of  "the  sister-counties," 
Wexford  and  Wicklow  —  Beauchamp  Bagenal  Harvey  ; 
Colclough  of  Tintern  Abbey ;  Fitzgerald  of  Newpark ; 
Miles  Byrne,  and  Edmond  Kyan,  in  the  one;  and  the 
patriot  brothers  Byrne  of  Ballymanus,  with  Holt,  Hackett, 
and    brave  Michael  Dwyer."  in  the  other.    And,  as  he 


532 


THE  STORY  OF  UiELANlJ. 


who  studies  the  history  of  this  country  will  note,  in  all 
struggles  for  seven  hundred  j^ears,  the  i)riests  of  Ireland, 
ever  fearless  to  brave  the  anger  of  the  maddened  people, 
restraining  them  while  conflict  might  be  avoided,  were 
ever  readiest  to  die, 

Whether  on  the  scaffold  high 
Or  in  the  battle's  van  — 

side  by  side  with  the  people,  when  driven  to  the  last  re- 
sort. Fathers  John  and  Michael  Murphy,  Father  Roche, 
and  Father  Clinch,  are  names  that  should  ever  be  remem- 
bered by  Irishmen  when  tempters  whisper  that  the  voice 
of  the  Catholic  pastor,  raised  in  warning  or  restraint,  is  the 
utterance  of  one  who  cannot  feel  for,  who  would  not  die 
for,  the  flock  he  desires  to  save. 

Just  as  the  short  and  bloodj'  struggle  had  terminated, 
there  appeared  in  Killala  Bay  the  first  instalment  of  that 
aid  from  France  for  which  the  United  Irish  leaders  had 
desired  to  wait !  If  they  could  have  resisted  the  govern- 
ment endeavours  to  precipitate  the  rising  for  barely  three 
or  four  months  longer,  it  is  impossible  to  say  how  the 
movement  might  have  resulted.  On  the  22d  August,  tlie 
French  general,  Humbert,  landed  at  Killala  with  barely 
one  thousand  men.  Miserable  as  was  this  force,  a  few 
months  earlier  it  would  have  counted  for  twenty  thou- 
sand;  but  now,  ten  thousand,  much  less  ten  hundred, 
would  not  avail.  They  came  too  late,  or  the  rising  was 
too  soon.  Nevertheless,  with  this  handful  of  men,  joined 
by  a  few  thousand  hardj'  Mayo  peasantry,  Humbert  liter- 
ally chased  the  government  troops  before  him  across  the 
island  ;  and  it  was  not  until  the  viceroy  himself.  Lord 
Cornwallis,  hurrying  from  Dublin,  concentrated  around 
the  Franco-Irish  army  of  three  thousand  men  a  force  of 
nearly  thirty  thousands  enveloping  them  on  all  sides  —  and, 
of  course,  hopelessly  overpowering  them  —  that  the  victo- 


THE  STORY  OF  IBELAXD. 


533 


rious  march  of  the  daring  Frenchman  was  arrested  by  the 
complete  defeat  and  capiiuhition  of  Ballinamuck.  on  the 
mornmg  of  the  8th  September.  1798. 

It  was  the  last  battle  of  the  insurrection.  Within  a 
fortnight  subsequently  two  further  and  smaller  expedi- 
tions from  France  reached  the  northern  coast;  one  ac- 
companied by  Napper  Tandy  (an  exiled  United  Irish 
leader),  and  another  under  Admiral  Bompart  with  Wolfe 
Tone  on  board.  The  latter  one  was  attacked  by  a  power- 
ful English  fleet  and  captured.  Tone,  the  heroic  and 
indefatigable,  was  sent  in  irons  to  Dublin,  where  he  was 
tried  by  court-martial  and  sentenced  to  be  hung.  He 
pleaded  hard  for  a  soldier's  death ;  but  his  judges  were 
inexorable.  It  turned  out,  however,  that  his  trial  and  con- 
viction were  utterly  illegal,  as  martial  law  had  ceased,  and 
the  ordinary  tribunals  were  sitting  at  the  time.  At  the 
instance  of  the  illustrious  Irish  advocate,  orator,  and  pa- 
triot, Curran,  an  order  was  obtained  against  the  military 
authorities  to  deliver  Tone  over  to  the  civil  court.  The 
order  was  at  first  resisted,  but  ultimately  the  official  of 
the  court  was  informed  that  the  prisoner  ''had  committed 
suicide."  He  died  a  few  days  after,  of  a  wound  in  his 
throat,  possibly  inflicted  by  himself,  to  avert  the  indignity 
he  so  earnestly  deprecated  ;  but  not  improbably,  as  popu- 
lar conviction  has  it,  the  work  of  a  murderous  hand;  for 
fouler  deeds  were  done  in  the  government  dungeons  in 
those  dark  and  evil  days." 

The  insurrection  of  '98  was  the  first  rebellion  on  the  part 
of  the  Irish  people  for  hundreds  of  years.  Tlie  revolt  of 
the  Puritan  colonists  in  1641,  and  that  of  their  descend- 
ants, the  Protestant  rebels  of  1690,  were  not  Irish  move- 
ments in  any  sense  of  the  phrase.  It  was  only  after  1605 
that  the  English  government  could,  by  any  code  of  moral 
obligations  whatever,  be  held  entitled  to  the  obedience  of 
the  Irish  people,  whose  struggles  previous  to  that  date 


534 


THE  iS  TORY  OF  111  EL  A  yD. 


were  lawful  efforts  in  defence  of  their  native  and  legiti- 
mate rulers  against  the  English  invaders.  And  never, 
subsequently  to  1605,  up  to  the  period  at  which  we  have 
now  arrived  — 1798  —  did  the  Irish  people  revolt  or  rebel 
against  the  new  sovereignty.  On  the  contrary,  in  1641, 
they  fought  for  the  king,  and  lost  heavily  by  their  loyalty. 
In  1690  once  more  they  fought  for  the  king,  and  again 
they  paid  a  terrible  penalty  for  their  fidelity  to  the  sov- 
ereign. In  plain  truth,  the  Irish  are,  of  all  peoples,  the 
most  disposed  to  respect  constituted  authority  where  it  is 
entitled  to  respect,  and  the  most  ready  to  repay  even  the 
shortest  measure  of  justice  on  the  part  of  the  sovereign, 
by  generous,  faithful,  enduring,  and  self-sacrificing  loyalty. 
They  are  a  law-abiding  people  —  or  rather  a  justice-loving 
people ;  for  their  contempt  for  law  becomes  extreme 
when  it  is  made  the  antithesis  of  justice.  Nothing  but 
terrible  provocation  could  have  driven  such  a  people  into 
rebellion. 

Rebellion  against  just  and  lawful  government  is  a  great 
crime.  Rebellion  against  constituted  government  of  any 
character  is  a  terrible  responsibility.  There  are  circum- 
stances under  which  resistance  is  a  duty,  and  where, 
it  may  be  said,  the  crime  would  be  rather  in  slavish 
or  cowardly  acquiescence  ;  but  awful  is  the  accountability 
of  him  who  undertakes  to  judge  that  the  measure  of 
justification  is  full,  that  the  moral  duty  of  resistance  is 
established  by  the  circumstances,  and  that.,  not  merely  in 
figure  of  speech,  but  in  solemn  reality,  no  other  resort 
remains. 

But,  however  all  this  may  be,  the  public  code  of  which 
it  is  a  part  rightly  recognizes  a  great  distinction  in  favour 
of  a  people  who  are  driven  into  the  field  to  defend  their 
homes  and  altars  against  brutal  military  violence.  Such 
were  the  heroic  men  of  Wexford  ;  and  of  the  United  Irish- 
men it  is  to  be  rcinrmlici  rd  that  if  they  pursued  an  object 


THE  :>TORY  OF  IRELAND. 


535 


unquestionably  good  and  virtuous  in  itself,  outside,  not 
within,  the  constitution,  it  was  not  by  their  own  choice. 
They  were  no  apostles  of  anarchy,  no  lovers  of  revolution, 
no  "  rebels  for  a  theory.*'  They  were  not  men  who  de- 
cried or  opposed  the  more  peaceful  action  of  moral  force 
agencies.  They  would  have  preferred  them,  had  a  choice 
fairly  been  left  them.  There  was  undoubtedly  a  French 
Jacobinical  spirit  tingeing  the  views  of  many  of  the  Dublin 
and  Ulster  leaders  towards  the  close,  but  under  all  the  cir- 
cumstances this  was  inevitable.  With  scarcely  an  excep- 
tion, they  were  men  of  exemplary  moral  characters,  high 
social  position,  of  unsullied  integrity,  of  brilliant  intellect, 
of  pure  and  lofty  patriotism.  They  were  men  who  hon- 
estly desired  and  endeavoured,  while  it  was  permitted  to 
them  so  to  do,  by  lawful  and  constitutional  means,  to  save 
and  serve  their  country,  but  who,  by  an  infamous  con- 
spiracy of  the  government,  were  deliberately  forced  upon 
resistance  as  a  patriot's  duty,  and  who  at  the  last  sealed 
with  their  blood  their  devotion  to  Ireland. 

"  More  than  twenty  years  have  passed  away,"  says  Lord 
Holland ;  "  many  of  my  political  opinions  are  softened, 
my  predilections  for  some  men  weakened,  my  prejudices 
against  others  removed ;  but  my  approbation  of  Lord  Ed- 
ward Fitzgerald's  actions  remains  unaltered  and  unshaken. 
His  country  was  bleeding  under  one  of  the  hardest  tyran- 
nies" that  our  times  have  witnessed.  He  who  thinks  that 
a  man  can  be  even  excused  in  such  circumstances  by  any 
other  consideration  than  that  of  despair  from  opposing  by 
force  a  pretended  government,  seems  to  me  to  sanction  a 
principle  which  would  insure  impunity  to  the  greatest  of 
all  human  delinquents,  or  at  least  to  those  who  produce 
the  greatest  misery  among  mankind."  ^ 


Lord  Holland,  Memoirs  of  the  Whig  Party, 


536 


THE  STOBY  OF  IB  EL  AND. 


CHAPTER  LXXXI. 

HOW  THE  GOVERNMENT  CONSPIRACY  NOW  ACHIEVED  ITS 
PURPOSE.  HOW  THE  PARLIAJVIENT  OF  IRELAND  WAS 
EXTINGUISHED. 

ORRORS,  says  Sir  Jonah  Barrington,  ''were 
everywhere  recommenced,  executions  were  multi- 
plied. The  government  had  now  achieved  the 
very  climax  of  public  terror  on  which  they  had 
so  much  counted  for  inducing  Ireland  to  throw  herself 
into  the  arms  of  the  '  protecting  '  country.  Mr.  Pitt  con- 
ceived that  the  moment  had  arrived  to  try  the  effect  of 
his  previous  measures,  to  promote  a  legislative  union,  and 
annihilate  the  parliament  of  Ireland." 

On  the  22d  January,  1799,  the  Irish  legislature  met 
under  circumstances  of  great  interest  and  excitement. 
The  city  of  Dublin,  always  keenly  alive  to  its  metropoli- 
tan interests,  sent  its  eager  thousands  by  every  avenue 
towards  College  Green.  The  viceroy  went  down  to  the 
houses  with  a  more  than  ordinary  guard,  and  being  seated 
on  the  throne  in  the  House  of  Lords,  the  Commons  were 
summoned  to  the  bar.  The  viceregal  speech  congratu- 
lated both  houses  on  the  suppression  of  the  late  rebellion, 
on  the  defeat  of  Bompart's  squadron,  and  the  recent 
French  victories  of  Lord  Nelson  ;  then  came,  amid  pro- 
found expectation,  this  concluding  sentence  :  — 

*  The  unremitting  industry,'  said  the  viceroy,  '  with  which  our 
enemies  persevere  in  their  avowed  design  of  endeavouring  to  effect 
a  separation  of  this  kingdom  from  Great  Britain  must  have  engaged 
your  attention,  and  his  Majesty  commands  me  to  express  his  anxious 
hope  that  this  consideration,  joined  to  the  sentiment  of  mutual 
affection  and  common  interest,  may  dispose  tlie  parliaments  in  both 


THE  STORY  OF  IHELAKD. 


537 


kingdoms  to  provide  the  most  effectual  means  of  maintaining  and 
improving  a  connection  essential  to  their  common  security,  and  of 
consolidating,  as  far  as  possible,  into  one  firm  and  lasting  fabric,  the 
strength,  the  power,  and  the  resources  of  the  British  empire.' 

"  On  the  paragraph  of  the  address  reechoing  this  senti- 
ment (which  was  carried  by  a  large  majority  in  the  Lords) 
a  debate  ensued  in  the  Commons  which  lasted  till  one 
o'clock  of  the  following  day,  above  twenty  consecutive 
hours.  The  galleries  and  lobbies  were  crowded  all  night 
by  the  first  people  of  the  city,  of  both  sexes,  and  when  the 
division  was  being  taken  the  most  intense  anxiety  was 
manifested  within  doors  and  without/' ^ 

"  One  hundred  and  eleven  members  had  declared 
against  the  Union,  and  when  the  doors  were  opened,  one 
hundred  and  five  were  discovered  to  be  the  total  number 
of  the  minister's  adherents.  The  gratification  of  the  anti- 
Unionists  was  unbounded ;  and  as  they  walked  deliber- 
ately in,  one  by  one,  to  be  counted,  the  eager  spectators, 
ladies  as  well  as  gentlemen,  leaning  over  the  galleries  ig- 
norant of  the  result,  were  panting  with  expectation.  Lady 
Castlereagh,  then  one  of  the  finest  women  of  the  court, 
appeared  in  the  sergeant's  box,  palpitating  for  her  hus- 
band's fate.  The  desponding  appearance  and  fallen  crests 
of  the  ministerial  benches,  and  the  exulting  air  of  the  op- 
position members  as  they  entered,  were  intelligible.  The 
murmurs  of  suppressed  anxiety  would  have  excited  an 
interest  even  in  the  most  unconnected  stranger,  who  had 
known  the  objects  and  importance  of  the  contest.  How 
much  more,  therefore,  must  every  Irish  breast  which 
panted  in  the  galleries,  have  experienced  that  thrilling 
enthusiasm  which  accompanies  the  achievement  of  patriotic 
actions,  when  the  minister's  defeat  was  announced  from 
the  chair  I    A  due  sense  of  respect  and  decorum  restrained 


1  M'Gee. 


THE  ST  Oil  Y  OF  III  EL  AND, 


the  galleries  within  proper  bounds ;  but  a  low  cry  of  satis- 
faction from  the  female  audience  could  not  be  prevented, 
and  no  sooner  was  the  event  made  known  out  of  doors, 
than  the  crowds  that  had  waited  during  the  entire  night 
with  increasing  impatience  for  the  vote  which  was  to  de- 
cide on  the  independence  of  their  country,  sent  forth  loud 
and  reiterated  shouts  of  exultation,  which,  resounding 
through  the  corridors,  and  penetrating  to  the  body  of  the 
house,  added  to  the  triumph  of  the  conquerors,  and  to  the 
misery  of  the  adherents  of  the  conquered  minister."  ^ 

The  minister  was  utterly  and  unexpectedly  worsted  in 
his  first  attack ;  but  he  was  not  shaken  from  his  purpose. 
He  could  scarcely  have  credited  that,  notwithstanding  his 
previous  laborious  machinations  of  terror  and  seduction, 
there  could  still  be  found  so  much  of  virtue,  courage,  and 
independence  in  the  parliament.  However,  this  bitter  de- 
feat merely  caused  him  to  fall  back  for  the  purpose  of  ap- 
proaching by  mine  the  citadel  he  had  failed  to  carry  by 
assault.  The  majority  against  him  was  narrow.  The 
gaining  of  twenty  or  thirty  members  would  make  a  dif- 
ference of  twice  that  number  on  a  division.  ''AH  the 
weapons  of  seduction  were  in  his  hands,"  says  Sir  Jonah 
Barrington,  ''and  to  acquire  a  majority,  he  had  only  to 
overcome  the  w^avering  and  tlie  feeble."  "  Thirty-two  new 
county  judgeships,"  says  another  writer,  "were  created; 
a  great  number  of  additional  inspectorships  were  also 
placed  at  the  minister's  disposal ;  thirteen  members  had 
peerages  for  themselves  or  for  their  wives,  with  remainder 
to  their  children,  and  nineteen  otliers  were  presented  to 
various  lucrative  offices." 

Both  parties  —  Unionists  and  anti-Unionists,  traitors  and 
patriots  —  felt  that  during  the  parliamentary  recess  the 
issue  would  really  be  decided  ;  for  by  the  time  the  next  ses- 
sion opened  the  minister  would  have  secured  his  majority 


1  Sir  Jouali  Barrington,  i?/.sc  and  Fall  of  the  Irish  yation. 


THE  STORY  OF  III  EL  A  XI), 


539 


if  such  an  end  was  possible.  The  interval,  accordingly, 
was  one  of  painfully  exciting  struggle,  each  party  strain- 
ing every  energy.  The  government  had  a  persuasive  story 
for  every  sectional  interest  in  the  country.  It  secretly 
assured  the  Catholic  bishops,  nay,  solemnly  pledged  itself, 
that  if  the  Union  were  carried,  one  of  the  first  acts  of  the 
imperial  parliament  should  be  Catholic  emancipation.  ^'  An 
Irish  parliament  will  never  grant  it,  can  never  afford  to 
grant  it,"  said  the  Castle  tempter.  "  The  fears  of  the  Prot- 
estant minority  in  this  country  will  make  them  too  much 
afraid  of  you.  We  alone  can  afford  to  rise  above  this  mis- 
erable dread  of  your  numbers."  To  the  Protestants,  on 
the  other  hand,  the  minister  held  out  arguments  just  as 
insidious,  as  treacherous,  and  as  fraudulent.  ''Behold 
the  never-ceasing  efforts  of  these  Catholics  !  Do  wliat  you 
will,  some  day  they  must  overwhelm  you,  being  seven  to 
one  against  you.  There  is  no  safety  for  you,  no  security 
for  the  Irish  Protestant  Church  establishment,  unless  in 
a  union  with  us.  In  Ireland,  as  a  kingdom,  j^ou  are  in  a 
miserable  minority,  sure  to  be  some  day  overwhelmed  and 
destroyed.  United  to  Great  Britain,  you  will  be  an  indi-' 
visible  part  of  one  vast  Protestant  majority,  and  can  afford 
to  defy  the  Papists." 

Again,  to  the  landed  gentry,  the  terrors  of  "French 
principles,"  constant  plots  and  rebellions,  were  artfully 
held  forth.  "  No  safety  for  society,  no  security  for  prop- 
erty, except  in  a  union  with  Great  Britain."  Even  the 
populace,  the  peasantry,  were  attempted  to  be  overreached 
also,  by  inflaming  them  against  the  landlords  as  base  yeo- 
manry tyrants,  whose  fears  of  the  people  w^ould  ever  make 
them  merciless  oppressors ! 

And  it  is  curious  to  note  that  in  that  day  — 1799  and 
1800 — the  identical  great  things  that  in  our  own  time  are 
still  about  to  happen,  and  have  always  been  about  to  hap- 
pen (but  are  iiever  happening^  since  1800,  were  loudly 


640  THE  STORY  OF  ICELAND. 

proclaimed  as  the  inevitable  first  fruits  of  a  union.  Eng- 
lish  capital "  was  to  flow  into  Ireland  by  the  million, 
''owing,"  as  the  ministerialists  sagaciously  put  it,  "to  the 
stability  of  Irish  institutions  when  guaranteed  by  the 
union."  Like  infallible  arguments  were  ready  to  show 
that  commerce  must  instantaneously  expand  beyond  cal- 
culation, and  manufactures  spring  up  as  if  by  magic,  all 
over  the  island.  Peace,  tranquillity,  prosperity,  content- 
ment, and  loyalty,  must,  it  was  likewise  sagely  argued, 
flow  from  the  measure  ;  for  the  Irish  would  see  the  useless- 
ness  of  rebelling  against  an  united  empire,  and  would  be 
so  happy  that  disaffection  must  become  vitterly  unknown. 
Nay,  whosoever  consults  the  journals  of  that  period,  will 
find  even  the  "  government  dockyard  at  Cork,"  and  other 
stock  jobs  of  promised  ''concession,"  figuring  then  just 
as  they  figure  now.^ 

But  the  endeavour  to  influence  public  opinion  proved 
futile,  and  the  minister  found  he  must  make  up  his  mind 
to  go  through  with  a  naked,  unsparing,  unscrupulous,  and 
unblushing  corruption  of  individuals.  Many  of  the  Cath- 
olic bishops  were  overreached  by  the  solemn  pledge  oi' 
emancipation;  but  the  overwhelming  majority  of  the 
clergy,  and  the  laity  almost  unanimously,  scouted  the  idea 
of  expediting  their  emancipation  by  an  eternal  betrayal  of 
their  country.  The  Orangemen  on  the  other  hand  were 
equally  patriotic.  All  the  Protestant  bishops  but  two 
were  gained  over  by  the  minister ;  yet  the  Protestant  or- 
ganizations everywhere  passed  resolutions,  strong  almost 
to  sedition,  against  the  union.  Most  important  of  all  was 
the  patriotic  conduct  of  the  Irish  Bar.  They  held  a  meet- 
ing to  discuss  the  proposition  of  a  "union,"  and  notwith- 


1  The  vote  of  Mr.  Robert  Fitzgerald,  of  Corkabeg,  was  secured  by  "  Lui-  l 
CornwaUis  assuring  him  that  in  the  event  of  the  union  a  royal  dockyard 
would  be  built  at  Cork,  which  would  double  the  value  of  his  estates."  — 
Barrinqton's  Rise  and  Fall  of  the  Irish  Nation. 


TUB  STORY  Ot"  IRELAND, 


541 


standing  the  open  threats  of  government  vengeance,  and 
public  offers  of  reward  or  bribe,  there  were  found  but 
thirty-two  members  of  the  bar  to  support  the  ministerial 
proposition,  while  one  hundred  and  sixty-six  voted  it  a 
treason  against  the  country. 

The  next  session,  the  last  of  the  Irish  parliament,  as- 
sembled on  the  15th  January,  1800.  The  minister  had 
counted  every  man,  and  by  means  the  most  iniquitous 
secured  the  requisite  majority.  Twenty-seven  new  peers 
had  been  added  to  the  House  of  Lords,  making  the  union 
project  all  safe  there.  In  the  Commons  some  thirty  or 
forty  seats  had  been  changed  by  bargain  with  the  owners 
of  the  boroughs.  It  was  doubtful  that  any  bo7ia  fide  con- 
stituency in  Ireland  —  even  one  —  could  be  got  to  sanc- 
tion the  union  scheme;  so  the  minister  had  to  carrj^  on 
his  operations  with  w^hat  were  called  ''patronage  boroughs," 
or  "  pocket-boroughs." 

The  patriot  party  felt  convinced  that  they  were  outnum- 
bered, but  they  resolved  to  fight  the  battle  vehemently 
while  a  chance  remained.  At  the  worst,  if  overborne  in 
such  a  cause,  they  could  expose  the  real  nature  of  the 
transaction,  and  cause  its  illegality,  infamy,  and  fraud,  to 
be  confessed ;  so  that  posterity  might  know  and  feel  the 
right  and  the  duty  of  appealing  against,  and  recovering 
against,  the  crime  of  that  hour.  They  persuaded  Grattan 
to  reenter  parliament  ^  to  aid  them  in  this  last  defence  of 
his  and  their  country's  liberties.  He  was  at  the  moment 
lying  on  a  bed  of  sickness,  yet  he  assented,  and  it  was 
decided  to  have  him  returned  for  Wicklow  town,  that 
borough  being  the  property  of  a  friend.  The  writ  was 
duly  applied  for,  but  the  government  withheld  its  issue  up 
to  the  last  moment  allowed  by  law,  designing  to  prevent 
Grattan's  return  in  time  for  the  debate  on  the  address  to 


1  Three  years  before,  he  and  many  others  of  the  patriot  party  had  quitted 
parliament  in  despair. 


542  THE  sronr  of  in  eland. 

the  throne,  the  first  trial  of  strength.  Nevertheless,  b}^  a 
feat  almost  unprecedented  in  parliamentary  annals,  that 
object  was  attained.  It  was  not  until  the  day  of  the 
meeting  of  parliament  that  the  writ  was  delivered  to 
the  returning  officer.  By  extraordinary  exertions,  and 
perhaps  by  following  the  example  of  government  in  over- 
straining the  law,  the  election  was  held  immediately  on 
the  arrival  of  the  writ ;  a  sufficient  number  of  votes  were 
collected  to  return  Mr.  Grattan  before  midnight.  By  one 
o'clock  the  return  was  on  its  road  to  Dublin ;  it  arrived 
by  five ;  a  party  of  Mr.  Grattan's  friends  repaired  to  the 
house  of  tlie  proper  officer,  and  making  him  get  out  of 
bed,  compelled  him  to  present  the  writ  in  parliament  be- 
fore seven  in  the  morning,  when  the  House  was  in  warm 
debate  on  the  Union.  A  whisper  ran  through  every  party 
that  Mr.  Grattan  was  elected,  and  would  immediately 
take  his  seat.  The  ministerialists  smiled  with  incredulous 
derision,  and  the  opposition  thought  the  news  too  good  to 
be  true. 

Mr.  Egan  was  speaking  strongly  against  the  measure, 
when  Mr.  George  Ponsonby  and  Mr.  Arthur  Moore  walked 
out,  and  immediately  returned,  leading,  or  rather  helping, 
Mr.  Grattan,  in  a  state  of  feebleness  and  debility.  The 
effect  was  electric.  Mr.  Grattan's  illness  and  deep  chagrin 
had  reduced  a  form  never  symmetrical,  and  a  visage  at  all 
times  thin,  nearly  to  the  appearance  of  a  spectre.  As  he 
feebly  tottered  into  the  House,  every  member  simultane- 
ously rose  from  his  seat.  He  moved  slowly  to  the  table  ; 
his  languid  countenance  seemed  to  revive  as  he  took  those 
oaths  that  restored  him  to  his  preeminent  station  ;  the 
smile  of  inward  satisfaction  obviously  illuminated  his  fea- 
tures, and  re-animation  and  energy  seemed  to  kindle  by 
the  labour  of  his  mind.  The  House  was  silent.  Mr.  Egan 
did  not  resume  his  speecli.  Mr.  Grattan,  almost  breath- 
less, as  if  by  instinct  attempted  to  rise,  but  was  unable  to 


THE  STOBT  OF  IBELAND. 


o48 


stand  ;  he  paused,  and  with  difficulty  requested  permission 
of  the  House  to  deliver  his  sentiments  without  moving 
from  his  seat.  Tliis  was  acceded  to  by  acclamation,  and 
he  who  had  left  his  bed  of  sickness  to  accord  as  he 
thought  his  last  words  in  the  parliament  of  his  country, 
kindled  gradually  till  his  language  glowed  with  an  energy 
and  feeling  which  he  had  seldom  surpassed.  After  nearly 
two  hours  of  the  most  powerful  eloquence,  he  concluded 
with  an  undiminished  vigour  miraculous  to  those  who 
were  unacquainted  with  his  intellect.*' 

The  debate  lasted  for  sixteen  consecutive  hours.  It 
commenced  at  seven  o'clock  on  the  evening  of  the  15th, 
continued  throughout  the  entire  night,  and  did  not  termi- 
nate until  eleven  o'clock  of  the  forenoon  on  the  16th. 
when  the  division  was  taken.  Then  the  minister's  triumph 
w^as  made  clear.  The  patriots  reckoned  one  hundred  and 
fifteen  votes  ;  the  government  one  hundred  and  fifty-eight. 
There  were  twenty-seven  absent  from  various  causes, 
nearly  every  man  an  anti-Unionist ;  but  even  these,  if 
present,  could  not  have  turned  the  scale.  The  discussion 
clearly  showed  that  Ireland's  doom  was  sealed. 

There  now  commenced  that  struggle  in  the  Irish  Senate 
House  in  College  Green,  over  which  the  Irish  reader  be- 
comes irresistibly  excited.  The  minister  felt  that  the 
plunge  was  taken,  and  now  there  must  be  no  qualms,  no 
scruples,  as  to  the  means  of  success.  Strong  in  his  pur- 
chased majority,  he  grew  insolent,  and  the  patriot  minority 
found  themselves  subjected  to  every  conceivable  mode  of 
assault  and  menace.  The  houses  of  parliament  were  in- 
variably surrounded  with  soldiery.  The  debates  were 
protracted  throughout  the  entire  night,  and  far  into  the 
forenoon  of  the  next  day.  In  all  this,  the  calculation  was, 
that  in  a  wearying  and  exhausting  struggle  of  this  kind, 
men  who  were  on  the  weak  and  losing  side,  and  who  had 
no  personal  interest  to  advance,  must  surely  give  way  be- 


THE  STORY  OF  IRKLAyD. 


fore  the  perseverance  of  men  on  the  strong  and  winning- 
side,  who  had  each  a  large  money  price  from  the  minister. 
But  that  gallant  band,  with  Grattan,  Ponsonby,  Parsons, 
and  Plunkett  at  their  head,  fought  the  struggle  out  with 
a  tenacity  that  seemed  to  experience  no  exhaustion.  In 
order  to  be  at  hand  in  the  House,  and  to  sit  out  the 
eighteen  and  twenty  hour  debates,  the  ministerialists 
formed  a  "dining  club,''  and  ate,  drank,  dined,  slept,  and 
breakfasted,  like  a  military  guard,  in  one  of  the  committee 
rooms.  The  patriot  party  followed  the  same  course  ;  and 
through  various  other  manoeuvres  met  the  enemy  move 
for  move. 

But  the  most  daring  and  singular  step  of  all  was  now 
taken  by  the  government  party  —  the  formation  of  a  duel- 
ling club.  The  premier  (Lord  Castlereagh)  invited  to  a 
dinner  party,  at  his  own  residence,  a  picked  band  of  twenty 
of  the  most  noted  duellists  amongst  the  ministerial  fol- 
lowers ;  and  then  and  there  it  was  decided  to  form  a  club, 
the  members  of  which  should  be  bound  to  call  out  "  any 
anti-Unionist  expressing  himself  "  immoderately"  against 
the  conduct  of  the  government !  In  plain  words,  Grattan 
and  his  colleagues  were  to  be  shot  down  in  designedly 
provoked  duels ! 

Even  this  did  not  appall  the  patriot  minority.  With 
spirit  undaunted  they  resolved  to  meet  force  by  force. 
Grattan  proposed  that  they  should  not  give  the  ministerial 
"  shooting  club  "  any  time  for  choosing  its  men,  but  that 
they  themselves  should  forestall  the  government  by  a  bold 
assumption  of  the  offensive.  He  was  himself  the  first  to 
lead  the  way  in  the  daring  course  he  counselled.  On  tlie 
17th  February,  the  House  went  into  committee  on  the 
articles  of  union,  which,  after  a  desperate  struggle,  as 
usual,  were  carried  through  by  a  majority  of  tiventy  votes ; 
one  hundred  and  sixty  to  one  hundred  and  forty.  It  was 
on  this  occasion  Corry,  the  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer, 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


545 


made,  for  the  third  or  fourth  time  that  session,  a  virulent 
attack  on  the  enfeebled  and  almost  prostrate  Grattan.  But 
soon  Corry  found  that  though  physically  prostrated,  the 
glorious  intellect  of  Grattan  was  as  proud  and  strong  as 
ever,  and  that  the  heart  of  a  lion  beat  in  the  patriot 
leader's  breast.  Grattan  answered  the  chancellor  by  "that 
famous  philippic,  unequalled  in  our  language  for  its  well- 
suppressed  passion  and  finely  condensed  denunciation." 
A  challenge  passed  on  the  instant,  and  Grattan,  having 
the  choice  of  time,  insisted  on  fighting  that  moment  or 
rather  that  morning as  soon  as  daylight  would  admit. 
Accordingly,  leaving  the  House  in  full  debate,  about  day 
dawn  the  principals  and  their  seconds  drove  to  the  Phoe- 
nix Park.  Before  half  an  hour  Grattan  had  shot  his  man, 
terminating,  in  one  decisive  encounter,  the  Castlereagh 
campaign  of  "fighting  down  the  opposition."  The  minis- 
terial "  duelling  club  "  was  heard  of  no  more. 

"  Throughout  the  months  of  February  and  March,  with 
an  occasional  adjournment,  the  constitutional  battle  was 
fought  on  every  point  permitted  by  the  forms  of  the 
House."  On  the  25th  March  the  committee  finally  re- 
ported the  Union  resolutions,  which  were  passed  in  the 
House  by  forty-seven  of  a  majority.  After  six  weeks  of 
an  interval,  to  allow  the  British  Parliament  to  make  like 
progress,  the  Union  Bill  was  (25th  May,  1800)  introduced 
into  the  Irish  Commons,  and  on  the  7th  of  Juno  the  Irish 
Parliament  met  for  the  last  time.  "  The  closing  scene," 
as  Mr.  M'Gee  truly  remarks,  "  has  been  often  described,  but 
never  so  graphically  as  by  the  diamond  pen  of  Sir  Jonah 
Barrington."    That  description  I  quote  unabridged:  — 

"  The  Commons  House  of  Parliament  on  the  last  evening 
afforded  the  most  melancholy  example  of  an  independent 
people,  betrayed,  divided,  sold,  and  as  a  state  annihilated. 
British  clerks  and  officers  were  smuggled  into  her  parlia- 
ment to  vote  away  the  constitution  of  a  country  to  which 


546 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


they  were  strangers,  and  in  which  they  had  neither  inter- 
est nor  connection.  They  were  employed  to  cancel  the 
royal  charter  of  the  Irish  nation,  guaranteed  by  the  British 
government,  sanctioned  by  the  British  legislature,  and 
unequivocally  confirmed  by  the  words,  the  signature,  and 
the  great  seal  of  their  monarch ! 

"  The  situation  of  the  Speaker  on  that  night  was  of  the 
most  distressing  nature.  A  sincere  and  ardent  enemy  of 
the  measure,  he  headed  its  opponents,  he  resisted  it  with 
all  the  power  of  his  mind,  the  resources  of  his  experience, 
his  influence,  and  his  eloquence. 

It  was,  however,  through  his  voice  that  it  was  to  be 
proclaimed  and  consummated.  His  only  alternative  (resig- 
nation) would  have  been  unavailing,  and  could  have  added 
nothing  to  his  character.  His  expressive  countenance 
bespoke  the  inquietude  of  his  feelings ;  solicitude  was 
perceptible  in  every  glance,  and  his  embarrassment  was 
obvious  in  every  word  he  uttered. 

"  The  galleries  were  full,  but  the  change  was  lamenta- 
ble ;  they  were  no  longer  crowded  with  those  who  had 
been  accustomed  to  witness  the  eloquence  and  to  animate 
the  debates  of  that  devoted  assembly.  A  monotonous  and 
melancholy  murmur  ran  through  the  benches,  scarcely 
a  word  was  exchanged  amongst  the  members,  nobody 
seemed  at  ease,  no  cheerfulness  was  apparent,  and  the 
ordinary  business  for  a  short  time  proceeded  in  the  usual 
manner. 

"  At  length  the  expected  moment  arrived,  the  order  of 
the  day  for  the  third  reading  of  the  bill  for  a  'Legislative 
Union  between  Great  Britain  and  Ireland,'  was  moved 
by  Lord  Castlereagh.  Unvaried,  tame,  cold-blooded,  the 
words  seemed  frozen  as  they  issued  from  his  lips,  and  as 
if  a  simple  citizen  of  the  world,  he  seemed  to  have  no 
sensation  on  the  subject.  At  that  moment  he  had  no 
country,  no  god  but  his  ambition.    He  made  his  motion, 


THE  STORY  OF  IBELAND. 


547 


and  resumed  his  seat,  with  the  utmost  composure  and 
indifference. 

"  Confused  murmurs  again  ran  through  the  House ;  it 
was  visibly  affected  ;  every  character  in  a  moment  seemed 
involuntarily  rushing  to  its  index  ;  some  pale,  some  flushed, 
some  agitated ;  there  were  few  countenances  to  which  the 
heart  did  not  dispatch  some  messenger.  Several  members 
withdrew  before  the  question  could  be  repeated,  and  an 
awful  momentary  silence  succeeded  their  departure.  The 
Speaker  rose  slowly  from  that  chair  which  had  been  the 
l)roud  source  of  his  honours  and  his  high  character;  for  a 
moment  he  resumed  his  seat,  but  the  strength  of  his  mind 
sustained  him  in  his  duty,  though  his  struggle  was  appar- 
ent. With  that  dignity  which  never  failed  to  signalise 
his  official  actions,  he  held  up  the  bill  for  a  moment  in 
silence ;  he  looked  steadily  around  him  on  the  last  agony 
of  the  expiring  parliament.  He  at  length  repeated  in  an 
emphatic  tone,  '  As  many  as  are  of  opinion  that  this  bill 
do  pass,  say  aye.'  The  affirmative  was  languid  but  indis- 
putable :  another  momentary  pause  ensued,  again  his  lips 
seemed  to  decline  their  office  ,  at  length  with  an  eye 
averted  from  the  object  which  he  hated,  he  proclaimed 
with  a  subdued  voice,  '  The  ayes  have  it'  The  fatal  sen- 
tence was  now  pronounced  ;  for  an  instant  he  stood  statue- 
like, then  indignantly,  and  with  disgust,  .flung  the  bill 
upon  the  table,  and  sunk  into  his  chair  with  an  exhausted 
spirit.  An  independent  country  was  thus  degraded  into 
a  province  :  Ireland  as  a  nation  was  extinguished."  ^ 


1  In  tlielr  private  correspondence  at  the  time  the  ministers  were  very 
candid  as  to  the  viUany  of  their  conduct.  The  letters  of  Lord  Casrlereagh 
and  Lord  CornwaUis  abound  with  the  most  startling  revelations  and  admis- 
sions. The  former  (Lord  Castlereagh)  writing  to  Secretary-  Cook,  21st  June, 
1800  (expostulating  against  an  intention  of  the  government  to  break  some 
of  the  bargains  of  corruption,  as  too  excessive,  now  that  the  deed  was  ac- 
complished), says:  It  will  be  no  secret  what  has  been  promised,  a?2d  hy 
what  means  the  Union  had  been  carried.   Disappointment  will  encourage, 


548 


THE  STOEY  OF  IRELAND, 


The  subjoined  verses,  written  on  the  night  of  that  sor- 
rowful scene — by  some  attributed  to  the  pen  of  Moore, 
by  others  to  that  of  Furlong  —  immediately  made  their 
appearance ;  a  Dirge  and  a  Prophecy  we  may  assuredly 
call  them :  — 

"  O  Ireland  !  my  country,  the  hour 

Of  thy  pride  and  thy  splendour  is  past ; 
And  the  chain  that  was  spurned  in  thy  moment  of  power, 

Hangs  heavy  around  thee  at  last. 
There  are  marks  in  the  fate  of  each  clime  — 

There  are  turns  in  the  fortunes  of  men ; 
But  the  changes  of  realms,  and  the  chances  of  time, 

Can  never  restore  thee  again. 

"  Thou  art  chained  to  the  wheel  of  thy  foe 

By  links  which  the  world  shall  not  sever. 
With  thy  tjrant,  thro'  storm  and  thro'  calm  shalt  thou  go, 

And  thy  sentence  is  —  bondage  for  ever. 
Thou  art  doom'd  for  the  thankless  to  toil. 

Thou  art  left  for  the  proud  to  disdain, 
And  the  blood  of  thy  sons  and  the  wealth  of  thy  soil 

Shall  be  wasted,  and  wasted  in  vain. 

"  Thy  riches  with  taunts  shall  be  taken, 

Thy  valour  with  coldness  repaid  ; 
And  of  millions  who  see  thee  thus  sunk  and  forsaken 

Not  one  shall  stand  forth  in  thine  aid. 
In  the  nations  thy  place  is  left  void, 

Thou  art  lost  in  the  list  of  the  free. 
Even  realms  by  the  plague  or  the  earthquake  destroyed 

May  revive :  but  no  hope  is  for  thee." 


not  prevent  disclosures,  and  the  only  effect  of  such  a  proceeding  on  their 
(the  ministers)  part  will  be  to  add  the  weight  of  their  testimony  to  that  of 
tlie  anti-Unionists  in  proclaiming  the  profligacy  of  the  means  by  which  the 
measure  was  accomplished.'* 


TEE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


649 


CHAPTER  LXXXII. 

IRELAND  AFTER   THE  UNION.      THE   STORY  OF  ROBERT 

EMMET. 

IE  peasants  of  Podolia,  when  no  Russian  myr- 
midon is  nigh,  chant  aloud  the  national  hymn  of 
their  captivity  — "  Poland  is  not  dead  yet." 
Whoever  reads  the  story  of  this  western  Poland, 
—  this  "Poland  of  the  seas,"  —  will  be  powerfully  struck 
with  the  one  all-prominent  fact  of  Ireland's  indestructible 
vitality/.  Under  circumstances  where  any  other  people 
would  have  succumbed  for  ever,  where  any  other  nation 
would  have  resigned  itself  to  subjugation  and  accepted 
death,  the  Irish  nation  scorns  to  yield,  and  refuses  to  die. 

It  survived  the  four  centuries  of  war  from  the  second 
to  the  eighth  Henry  of  England.  It  survived  the  exter- 
minations of  Elizabeth,  by  which  Froude  has  been  so  pro- 
foundly appalled.  It  survived  the  butcheries  of  Cromwell, 
and  the  merciless  persecutions  of  the  Penal  times.  It 
survived  the  bloody  policy  of  Ninety-eight.  Confiscations, 
such  as  are  to  be  found  in  the  history  of  no  other  country 
in  Europe,. again  and  again  tore  up  society  by  the  roots  in 
Ireland,  trampling  the  noble  and  the  gentle  into  poverty 
and  obscurity.  The  mind  was  sought  to  be  quenched,  the 
intellect  extinguished,  the  manners  debased  and  brutified. 
"  The  perverted  ingenuity  of  man"  could  no  further  go  in 
the  untiring  endeavour  to  kill  out  all  aspirations  for  free- 
dom, all  instinct  of  nationality  in  the  Irish  breast.  Yet 
this  indestructible  nation  has  risen  under  the  blows  of  her 
murderous  persecutors,  triumphant  and  immortal.  She 
has  survived  even  England's  latest  and  most  deadly  blow, 
designed  to  be  the  final  stroke  —  the  Union. 


550 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


Almost  on  the  threshold  of  the  new  century,  the  con- 
spiracy of  Robert  Emmet  startled  the  land  like  the  sud- 
den explosion  of  a  mine.  In  the  place  assigned  in  Irish 
memory  to  the  youthful  and  ill-fated  leader  of  this  enter- 
prise, is  powerfully  illustrated  the  all-absorbing,  all-indul- 
ging love  of  a  people  for  those  who  purely  give  up  life  on 
the  altar  of  Country.  Many  considerations  might  seem  to 
invoke  on  Emmet  the  censure  of  stern  judgment  for  the  i- 
apparently  criminal  hopelessness  of  his  scheme.  Napoleon 
once  said  that  "  nothing  consolidates  a  new  dynasty  like  an 
unsuccessful  insurrection  ; "  and  unquestionably  Emmet's 
emeute  gave  all  possible  consolidation  to  the  ''Union" 
rSgime,  It  brought  down  on  Ireland  the  terrible  penalty  of 
2i  five  years'  suspension  of  the  Habeas  Corpus  Act,  and  a 
contemporaneous  continuance  of  the  bloody  "  Insurrection 
Act,"  aggravating  tenfold  all  the  miseries  of  the  country. 
Nevertheless,  the  Irish  nation  has  canonized  his  meinory 
—  has  fondly  placed  his  name  on  the  roll  of"  its  patriot 
martyrs.  His  extreme  youth,  his  pure  and  gentle  nature, 
his  lofty  and  noble  aims,  his  beautiful  and  touching  speech 
in  the  dock,  and  his  tragic  death  upon  the  scaffold,  have 
been  all-efficacious  with  his  countrymen  to  shield  his  mem- 
ory from  breath  of  blame. 

Robert  Emmet  was  the  youngest  brother  of  Thomas 
Addis  Emmet,  one  of  the  most  distinguished  and  illustri- 
ous of  the  United  Irish  leaders.  He  formed  the  daring 
design  of  surprising  the  castle  of  Dublin,  and,  by  the  seiz- 
ure of  the  capital,  the  inauguration  of  a  rebellion  through- 
out the  provinces.  Indeed,  it  was,  as  Mr.  M'Gee  remarks, 
the  plan  of  Roger  O'More  and  Lord  Maguire  in  1641.  In 
this  project  he  was  joined  by  several  of  the  leaders  in  the 
recent  insurrection,  amongst  them  being  Thomas  Russell, 
.one  of  the  bravest  and  noblest  characters  that  ever  ap- 
peared on  the  page  of  history,  and  Michael  Dwyer,  of 
Wicklow,  who  still,  as  for  the  past  five  years,  held  his 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


551 


ground  in  the  defiles  of  Glenmalure  and  Imall,  defying 
and  defeating  all  attempts  to  capture  him.  But,  besides 
the  men  whose  names  were  openly  revealed  in  connection 
with  the  plot,  and  these  comprised  some  of  the  best  and 
worthiest  in  the  land,  it  is  beyond  question  that  there  were 
others  not  discovered,  filling  high  positions  in  Ireland,  in 
England,  and  in  France,  who  approved,  counselled,  and 
assisted  in  Emmet's  design. 

Although  the  conspiracy  embraced  thousands  of  asso- 
ciates in  Dublin  alone,  not  a  man  betrayed  the  secret  to 
the  last,  and  Emmet  went  on  with  his  preparations  of 
arms  and  ammunition  in  two  or  three  depots  in  the  city. 
Even  when  one  of  tliese  exploded  accidentally,  the  govern- 
ment failed  to  divine  what  was  afoot,  though  their  suspi- 
cions were  excited.  On  the  night  of  the  23d  of  July, 
1803,  Emmet  sallied  forth  from  one  of  the  depots  at  the 
head  of  less  than  a  hundred  men.  But  the  whole  scheme 
of  arrangements,  —  although  it  certainly  was  one  of  the 
most  ingenious  and  perfect  ever  devised  by  the  skill  of 
man,  —  like  most  other  conspiracies  of  the  kind,  crumbled 
in  all  its  parts  at  the  moment  of  action.  "  There  w^as 
failure  everywhere  ;  "  and  to  further  insure  defeat,  a  few 
hours  before  the  moment  fixed  for  the  march  upon  the 
Castle,  intelligence  reached  the  government  f  rom  Kildare, 
that  some  outbreak  was  to  take  place  that  night,  as  bodies 
of  the  disaffected  peasantry  from  that  county  had  been 
observed  making  towards  the  city.  The  authorities  were 
accordingly  on  the  qui  vive^  to  some  extent,  when  Emmet 
reached  the  street.  His  expected  musters  had  not  ap- 
peared ;  his  own  band  dwindled  to  a  score  ;  and,  to  him 
the  most  poignant  affliction  of  all,  an  act  of  lawless  blood- 
shed, the  murder  of  Lord  Justice  Kilwarden,  one  of  the 
most  humane  and  honourable  judges,  stained  the  short-lived 
emeute.  Incensed  beyond  expression  by  this  act,  and  per- 
ceiving the  ruin  of  his  attemjDt,  Emmet  gave  peremptory 


652 


TEE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


orders  for  its  instantaneous  abandonment.  He  himself 
hurried  off  towards  Wicklow  in  time  to  countermand  the 
rising  tliere  and  in  Wexford  and  Kildare.  It  is  beyond 
question  that  his  prompt  and  strenuous  exertions,  his 
aversion  to  the  useless  sacrifice  of  life,  alone  prevented  a 
protracted  struggle  in  those  counties. 

His  friends  now  urged  him  to  escape,  and  several  means 
of  escape  were  offered  to  him.  He,  however,  insisted  on 
postponing  his  departure  for  a  few  daj^s.  He  refused  to 
disclose  his  reason  for  this  perilous  delay ;  but  it  was  event- 
ually discovered.  Between  himself  and  the  young  daugh- 
ter of  the  illustrious  Curran  there  existed  the  most  tender 
and  devoted  attachment,  and  he  was  resolved  not  to  quit 
Ireland  without  bidding  her  an  eternal  farewell.  This 
resolve  cost  him  his  life.  While  awaiting  an  opportunity 
for  an  interview  with  Miss  Curran,  he  was  arrested  on  the 
25tli  of  August,  1803,  at  a  house  on  the  east  side  of 
Harold's  Cross  Road,  a  few  perches  beyond  the  canal 
bridge.  On  the  19th  of  the  following  month  he  was  tried 
at  Green  Street ;  upon  which  occasion,  after  conviction, 
he  delivered  that  speech  which  has,  probably,  more  than 
aught  else,  tended  to  immortalize  his  name.  Next  morning, 
20th  September,  1803,  he  was  led  out  to  die.  There  is  a 
story  that  Sarah  Curran  was  admitted  to  a  farewell  inter- 
view with  her  hapless  lover  on  the  night  preceding  his 
execution ;  but  it  rests  on  slender  authority,  and  is  op- 
posed to  probabilities.  But  it  is  true  that,  as  he  was  being 
led  to  execution,  a  last  farewell  was  exchanged  between 
them.  A  carriage,  containing  Miss  Curran  and  a  friend, 
was  drawn  up  on  the  roadside,  near  Kilmainham,  and,  evi- 
dently by  preconcert,  as  the  vehicle  containing  Emmet 
passed  by  on  the  way  to  the  place  of  execution,  the  un- 
happy pair  exchanged  their  last  greeting  on  earth.^ 


1  Madden's  Lives  and  Times  of  the  United  Lnshmen. 


THi:  STOBY  OF  IRELAND, 


563 


In  Thomas  Street,  at  the  head  of  Bridgefoot  Street,  and 
directly  opposite  the  Protestant  Church  of  St.  Catherine, 
the  fatal  beam  and  platform  were  erected.  It  is  said  that 
Emmet  had  been  led  to  expect  a  rescue  at  the  last,  either 
by  Russell  (who  was  in  town  for  that  purpose),  or  by 
Michael  Dwyer  and  his  mountain  band.  He  mounted  the 
scaffold  with  firmness,  and  gazed  about  him  long  and  wist- 
fully, as  if  he  expected  to  read  the  signal  of  hope  from 
some  familiar  face  in  the  crowd.  He  protracted  all  the 
arrangements  as  much  as  possible,  and  even  when  at  length 
the  fatal  noose  was  placed  upon  his  neck,  he  begged  a  little 
pause.  The  executioner  again  and  again  asked  him  was 
he  ready,  and  each  time  was  answered :  "  Not  yet,  not 
yet."  Again  the  same  question,  and,  says  one  who  was 
present,  while  the  words  "  Not  yet "  were  still  being 
uttered  by  Emmet,  the  bolt  was  drawn,  and  he  was 
launched  into  eternity.  The  head  was  severed  from  his 
body,  and,  "  according  to  law,"  held  up  to  the  public  gaze 
by  the  executioner  as  the  head  of  a  traitor."  An  hour 
afterwards,  as  an  eye-witness  tells  us,  the  dogs  of  the  street 
were  lapping  from  the  ground  the  blood  of  the  pure  and 
gentle  Robert  Emmet. 

Moore  was  the  fellow-student  and  companion  of  Emmet, 
and,  like  all  who  knew  him,  ever  spoke  in  fervent  admira- 
tion of  the  youthful  patriot-martyr  as  the  impersonation 
of  all  that  was  virtuous,  generous,  and  exalted !  More 
than  once  did  the  minstrel  dedicate  his  strains  to  the  mem- 
ory of  that  friend  whom  he  never  ceased  to  mourn.  The 
following  verses  are  familiar  to  most  Irish  readers :  — 

"  Oh  !  breathe  not  his  name ;  let  it  sleep  in  the  shade 
Where  cold  and  unhonoured  his  relics  are  laid. 
Sad,  silent,  and  dark  be  the  tears  that  we  shed, 
As  the  night  dew  that  falls  on  the  grass  o'er  his  head. 

"  But  the  night  dew  that  falls,  though  in  silence  it  weeps, 
Sljall  brighten  with  verdure  the  grave  wher^  he  sleeps ; 


654 


THE  STORY  OF  IB  ELAND, 


And  the  tear  that  we  shed,  though  in  secret  it  rolls, 
Shall  long  keep  his  memory  green  in  our  souls  ! " 

Soon  afterwards  the  gallant  and  noble-ltearted  Russell 
was  executed  at  Downpatrick,  and  for  months  subsequently 
the  executioner  was  busy  at  his  bloody  work  in  Dublin. 
Michael  Dwyer,  however,  the  guerilla  of  the  Wicklow 
hills,  held  his  ground  in  the  fastnesses  of  Luggielaw, 
Glendalough,  and  Glenmalure.  In  vain  regiment  after 
regiment  was  sent  against  him.  Dwyer  and  his  trusty 
band  defeated  every  effort  of  their  foes.  The  military 
detachments,  one  by  one,  were  wearied  and  worn  out  by 
the  privations  of  campaigning  in  that  wild  region  of  dense 
forest  and  trackless  mountain.  The  guerilla  chief  was 
apparently  ubiquitous,  always  invisible  when  wanted  by  his 
pursuers,  but  terribly  visible  when  not  expected  by  them. 
In  the  end  some  of  the  soldiers  ^  became  nearly  as  friendly 
to  him  as  the  peasantry,  frequently  sending  him  word  of 
any  movement  intended  against  him.  More  than  a  year 
passed  by,  and  the  powerful  British  government,  that  could 
suppress  the  insurrection  at  large  in  a  few  months,  found 
itself,  so  far,  quite  unable  to  subdue  the  indomitable  Out- 
law of  Glenmalure.  At  length  it  was  decided  to  "  open 
up  "  the  district  which  formed  his  stronghold,  by  a  series 
of  military  roads  and  a  chain  of  mountain  forts,  barracks, 
and  outposts.  The  scheme  was  carried  out,  and  the  tourist 
who  now  seeks  the  beauties  of  Glencree,  Luggielaw,  and 
Glendalough,  will  travel  by  the  ''military  roads,"  and  pass 
the  mountain  forts  or  barracks,  which  the  government  of 
England  found  it  necessary  to  construct  before  it  could 
wrest  from  Michael  Dwyer  the  dominion  of  those  romantic 
scenes. 


1  They  were  Highland  regiments.  Through  tlie  insurrections  of  1798 
and  1803,  the  Highland  regiments  behaved  witli  the  greatest  humanity,  and, 
where  possible,  kindness  towards  the  Irish  peasantry. 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


555 


The  well-authenticated  stories  of  Dwyer's  hairbreadth 
escapes  by  flood  and  field  would  fill  a  goodly  volume. 
One  of  them  reveals  an  instance  of  devoted  heroism  —  of 
self-immolation  —  which  deserves  to  be  recorded  in  letters 
of  gold. 

One  day  the  Outlaw  Chief  had  been  so  closely  pursued 
that  his  little  band  had  to  scatter,  the  more  easily  to  es- 
cape, or  to  distract  the  pursuers,  who,  on  this  occasion, 
were  out  in  tremendous  force  scouring  hill  and  plain. 
Some  hours  after  nightfall,  Dwyer,  accompanied  by  only 
four  of  his  party  (and  fully  believing  that  he  had  success- 
fully eluded  his  foes),  entered  a  peasant's  cottage  in  the 
wild  and  picturesque  solitude  of  Imall.  He  was,  of  course, 
joyously  welcomed  ;  and  he  and  his  tired  companions  soon 
tasted  such  humble  hospitality  as  the  poor  mountaineer's 
hut  could  afford.    Then  they  gave  themselves  to  repose. 

But  the  Outlawed  Patriot  had  not  shaken  the  foe  from 
his  track  that  evening.  He  had  been  traced  to  the  moun- 
tain hut  with  sleuth-hound  patience  and  certainty;  and 
now,  while  he  slept  in  fancied  security,  the  little  sheeling 
was  being  stealthily  surrounded  by  the  soldiery ! 

Some  stir  on  the  outside,  some  chance  rattle  of  a  mus- 
ket, or  clank  of  a  sabre,  awakened  one  of  the  sleepers 
within.  A  glance  through  a  door-chink  soon  revealed  all ; 
and  Dwyer,  at  the  first  whisper  springing  to  his  feet,  found 
that  after  nearly  five  years  of  proud  defiance  and  success- 
ful struggle,  he  was  at  length  in  the  toils  !  Presently  the 
officer  in  command  outside  knocked  at  the  door  ''In 
the  name  of  the  king."  Dwyer  answered,  demanding 
his  business.  The  officer  said  he  knew  that  Michael 
Dwyer  the  Outlaw  was  inside.  "  Yes,"  said  Dwyer,  I 
am  the  man." —  ''  Then,"  rejoined  the  officer,  "as  I  desire 
to  avoid  useless  bloodshed,  surrender.  This  house  is  sur- 
rounded ;  we  must  take  you,  alive  or  dead."  —  "  If  you  are 
averse  to  unnecessary  bloodshed,"  said  Dwyer,  ''first  let 


666 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


the  poor  man  whose  house  this  is,  and  his  innocent  wife 
and  children,  pass  through.  I  came  into  this  house  unbid- 
den, unexpectedly.  They  are  guiltless.  Let  them  go  free, 
and  then  I  shall  consider  your  proposition  as  regards 
myself." 

The  officer  assented.  The  poor  cottager,  his  wife,  and 
children,  were  passed  through. 

"  Now,  then,"  cried  the  officer,  "  surrender  in  the  name 
of  the  king." 

"  Never !  "  shouted  Dwyer ;  "  we  defy  you  in  the  name 
of  Ireland." 

The  hills  echoed  to  the  deafening  peals  that  followed  on 
this  response.  For  nearly  an  hour  Dwyer  and  his  four 
companions  defended  the  sheeling,  keeping  their  foes  at 
bay.  But  by  this  time  one  of  them  lay  mortally  wounded. 
Soon  a  shout  of  savage  joy  from  the  soldierj^-  outside  was 
followed  by  a  lurid  glare  all  around.  They  had  set  the 
cabin  on  fire  over  the  heads  of  the  doomed  outlaws ! 

Then  spoke  up  Dwyer's  wounded  companion,  Alexander 
MacAlister:  "My  death  is  near;  my  hour  is  come.  Even 
if  the  way  was  clear,  there  is  no  hope  for  me.  Promise  to 
do  as  I  direct,  and  I  will  save  you  all."  Then  the  poor 
fellow  desired  them  to  prop  him  up,  gun  in  hand,  immedi- 
ately inside  the  door.  "  Now,"  continued  he,  "  they  are 
expecting  yow  to  rush  out,  and  they  have  their  rifles  lev- 
elled at  the  door.  Fling  it  open.  Seeing  me,  they  will  all 
fire  at  me.  Do  you  then  quickly  dash  out  through  the 
smoke,  before  they  can  load  again." 

They  did  as  the  dying  hero  bade  them.  They  flung  the 
door  aside.  There  was  an  instantaneous  volley,  and  the 
brave  MacAlister  fell  pierced  by  fifty  bullets.  Quick  as 
lightning,  Dwyer  and  his  three  comrades  dashed  through 
the  smoke.  He  alone  succeeded  in  breaking  through  the 
encircling  soldiers  ;  and  once  outside  in  the  darkness,  on 
those  trackless  hills,  he  was  lost  to  all  pursuit  I 


TEE  STOliY  OF  IRELAND, 


557 


Nor  was  he  ever  captured.  Long  afterwards,  every 
effort  to  that  end  having  been  tried  for  years  in  vain,  he 
was  offered  honourable  conditions  of  surrender.  He  ar- 
cepted  them ;  but  when  was  a  treaty  kept  towards  the 
Irish  brave  ?  Its  specific  terms  were  basely  violated  by 
the  government,  and  he  was  banished  to  Australia. 

The  mountaineers  of  Wicklow  to  this  day  keep  up  the 
traditions  of  Michael  Dwyer  —  of  his  heroism,  his  patriot- 
ism —  of  his  daring  feats,  his  marvellous  escapes.  But  it 
is  of  the  devoted  MacAlister  that  they  treasure  the  most 
tender  memory ;  and  around  their  firesides,  in  the  winter 
evenings,  the  cottagers  of  Glenmalure,  in  rustic  ballad  or 
simple  story,  recount  with  tearful  eyes  ^nd  beating  hearts, 
how  he  died  to  save  his  chief  in  the  sheeling  of  Imall. 

The  following  ballad,  by  Mr.  T.  D.  Sullivan,  follows 
literally  the  story  of  the  hero-martyr  MacAlister  :  — 

"  *  At  length,  brave  Michael  Dwyer,  you  and  your  trusty  men 
Are  hunted  o'er  the  mountains  and  tracked  into  the  glen. 
Sleep  not,  but  watch  and  listen  ;  keep  ready  blade  and  ball ; 
The  soldiers  know  you  're  hiding  to-night  in  wild  Imaal.' 

"  The  soldiers  searched  the  valley,  and  towards  the  dawn  of  day 
Discovered  where  the  outlaws,  the  dauntless  rebels  lay. 
Around  the  little  cottage  they  formed  into  a  ring. 
And  called  out,  *  Michael  Dwyer !  surrender  to  the  king  1 ' 

"  Thus  answered  Michael  Dwyer  :  *  Into  this  house  we  came, 
Unasked  by  those  who  own  it  —  they  cannot  be  to  blame. 
Then  let  these  peaceful  people  unquestioned  pass  you  through. 
And  when  they  're  placed  in  safety,  I  '11  tell  you  what  we  '11  do.' 

"  'T  was  done.    *  And  now,'  said  Dwyer, '  your  work  you  may  begin  : 
You  are  a  hundred  outside  —  we  're  only  four  within. 
We 've  heard  your  haughty  summons,  and  this  is  our  reply  : 
We  're  true  United  Irishmen,  we  '11  fight  until  we  die.' 

"  Then  burst  the  war's  red  lightning,  then  poured  the  leaden  rain  ; 
The  hills  around  reechoed  the  thunder  peals  again. 


558 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


The  soldiers  falling  round  him,  brave  Dwyer  sees  with  pride ; 
But,  ah  !  one  gallant  comrade  is  wounded  by  his  side. 

"  Yet  there  are  three  remaining  good  battle  for  to  do  ; 
Their  hands  are  strong  and  steady,  their  aim  is  quick  and  true ; 
But  hark  !  that  furious  shouting  the  savage  soldiers  raise  ! 
The  house  is  fired  around  them  !  the  roof  is  in  a  blaze  ! 

"  And  brighter  every  moment  the  lurid  flame  arose, 
And  louder  swelled  the  laughter  and  cheering  of  their  foes. 
Then  spake  the  brave  MacAlister,  the  weak  and  wounded  man  : 
'  You  can  escape,  my  comrades,  and  this  shall  be  your  plan  : 

"  *  Place  in  my  hands  a  musket,  then  lie  upon  the  floor : 
I  '11  stand  before  the  soldiers,  and  open  wide  the  door: 
They  '11  pour  into  my  bosom  the  fire  of  their  array ; 
Then,  whilst  their  guns  are  empty,  dash  through  them  and  aw^ay.' 

"  He  stood  before  his  foemen  revealed  amidst  the  flame. 
From  out  their  levelled  pieces  the  wished-for  volley  came ; 
Up  sprang  the  three  survivors  for  whom  the  hero  died, 
But  only  Michael  Dwyer  broke  through  the  ranks  outside. 

He  baffled  his  pursuers,  who  followed  like  the  wind  ; 
He  swam  the  river  Slaney,  and  left  them  far  behind  ; 
But  many  an  English  soldier  he  promised  soon  should  fall, 
For  these,  his  gallant  comrades,  who  died  in  wild  Imaal." 

The  surrender  of  Michael  Dwyer  was  the  last  event  of 
the  insurrection  of  1798-1803.  But,  ,  for  several  years 
subsequently,  the  Habeas  Corpus  Act  continued  suspended 
and  an  insurrection  act  was  in  full  force.  Never  up  to 
the  hour  of  Napoleon's  abdication  at  Fontainebleau, 
did  the  spectre  of  a  French  invasion  of  Ireland  cease  to 
haunt  the  mind  of  England. 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


569 


CHAPTER  LXXXIII. 

HOW  THE   IRISH    CATHOLICS,  UNDER  THE  LEADERSHIP 
OF  O'CONNELL,  WON  CATHOLIC  EMANCIPATION. 

MMET'S  insurrection  riveted  the  Union  chain  on 
Ireland.  It  was  for  a  time  the  death-blow  of 
public  life  in  the  country.  When  political  action 
reappeared,  a  startling  change,  a  complete  revolu- 
tion, had  been  wrought.  An  entirely  new  order  of  things 
appeared  in  politics  —  an  entirely  new  phase  of  national 
life  and  effort ;  new  forces  in  new  positions  and  with  new 
tactics.    Everything  seemed  changed. 

Hitherto  political  Ireland  meant  the  Protestant  minority 
of  the  population  alone.  Within  this  section  there  were 
nationalists  and  anti-nationalists,  Whigs  and  Tories,  eman- 
cipationists and  anti-emancipationists.  They  talked  of, 
and  at,  and  about  the  Catholics  (the  overwhelming  mass 
of  the  population)  very  much  as  parties  in  America,  pre- 
vious to  1860,  debated  the  theoretical  views  and  doctrines 
relating  to  negro  emancipation.  Some  went  so  far  as  to 
maintain  that  a  Catholic  was  "  a  man  and  a  brother." 
Others  declared  this  a  revolutionary  proposition,  subversive 
of  the  crown  and  government.  The  parties  discussed  the 
matter  as  a  speculative  subject.  But  now  the  Catholic 
millions  themselves  appeared  on  the  scene,  to  plead  and 
agitate  their  own  cause,  and  alongside  the  huge  reality  of 
their  power,  the  exclusively  Protestant  political  fabric  sunk 
into  insignificance,  and  as  such  disappeared  for  ever.  In 
theory  —  legal  theory  —  no  doubt  the  Protestant  minority 
were  for  a  long  time  subsequently  "  The  State,"  but  men 
ignored  the  theory  and  dealt  with  the  fact.  From  1810 
to  1829,  the  politics  of  Ireland  were  bound  up  in  the  one 


660 


THE  STOUY  OF  IRELAND. 


question  —  emancipation  or  no  emancipation.  The  Catho- 
lics had  many  true  and  staunch  friends  amongst  the  Prot- 
estant patriots.  Grattan,  Curran,  Plunkett,  Burke,  are 
names  that  will  never  be  forgotten  by  enfranchised 
Catholic  Irishmen.  But  by  all  British  parties  and  party 
leaders  alike  they  found  themselves  in  turn  deceived,  aban- 
doned, betrayed.  Denounced  by  the  king,  assailed  by  the 
Tories,  betrayed  by  the  Whigs;  one  moment  favoured  by  a 
premier,  a  cabinet,  or  a  section  of  a  cabinet ;  the  next,  for- 
bidden to  hope,  and  commanded  to  desist  from  further 
effort,  on  the  peril  of  fresh  chains  and  scourges  —  the  en- 
slaved millions  at  length  took  the  work  of  their  redemp- 
tion out  of  the  hands  of  English  party  chiefs  and  cliques, 
and  resolved  to  make  it  a  question  of  national  emergency, 
not  of  party  expediency. 

The  great  victory  of  Catholic  Emancipation  was  won 
outside  of  the  Parliament,  but  within  the  lines  of  consti- 
tutional action.  It  was  mainly  the  work  of  one  man, 
whose  place  in  the  hearts  of  his  countrymen  was  rarely,  if 
ever  before,  reached,  and  probably  will  be  rarely  reached 
again  by  king  or  commoner.  The  people  called  him  Lib- 
erator." Others  styled  him  truly  the  Father  of  his 
Country  "  —  the  "  Uncrowned  Monarch  of  Ireland."  All 
the  nations  of  Christendom,  as  the  simplest  yet  truest 
homage  to  his  fame,  recognize  him  in  the  world's  history 
as  "  O'Connell." 

It  may  well  be  doubted  if  any  other  man  or  any  other 
tactics  could  have  succeeded,  where  the  majestic  genius, 
the  indomitable  energy,  and  the  protean  strategy  of  O'Con- 
nell  were  so  notably  victorious.  Irishmen  of  this  genera- 
tion can  scarcely  form  an  adequate  conception  of  the 
herculean  task  that  confronted  the  young  barrister  of  1812. 
The  condition  of  Ireland  was  unlike  that  of  any  other 
country  in  the  world  in  any  age.  The  Catholic  nobility 
and  old  gentry  had  read  history  so  mournfully  that  the 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


661 


soul  had  quietly  departed  from  them.  They  had  seen 
nothing  but  confiscation  result  from  past  efforts,  and  they 
had  learned  to  fear  nothing  more  than  new  agitation  that 
might  end  similarly.  Like  the  lotus-eater,  their  cry  was 
''Let  us  alone."  By  degrees  some  of  them  crept  out  a  lit- 
tle into  the  popular  movement ;  but  at  the  utterance  of 
an  extreme  "  doctrine  or  ''  violent  "  opinion  by  young 
O'Connell,  or  other  of  those  "  inflammatory  politicians," 
they  fled  back  to  their  retirement  with  terrified  hearts, 
and  called  out  to  the  government  that  for  their  parts, 
they  reprobated  anything  that  might  displease  the  king  or 
embarrass  the  ministry. 

Nor  was  it  the  Catholic  nobility  and  gentry  alone  whose 
unexampled  pusillanimity  long  thwarted  and  retarded 
O'Connell.  The  Catholic  bishops  for  a  long  time  received 
him  and  the  '' advanced  "  school  of  emancipationists  with 
unconcealed  dislike  and  alarm.  They  had  seen  the  terrors 
and  rigours  of  the  penal  times  ;  and  "  leave  to  live,"  even  by 
mere  connivance,  seemed  to  them  a  great  boon.  The  ''ex- 
treme "  ideas  of  this  young  O'Connell  and  his  party  could 
only  result  in  mischief.  Could  he  not  go  on  in  the  old 
slow  and  prudent  way  ?  What  could  he  gain  by  "  ex- 
treme "  and  "impracticable  "  demands  ? 

In  nothing  did  O'Connell's  supreme  tact  and  prudence 
manifest  itself  more  notably  than  in  his  dealings  with  the 
Catholic  bishops  wl^o  were  opposed  to  and  unfriendly  to 
him.  He  never  attempted  to  excite  popular  indignation 
against  them  as  "  Castle  politicians  ;  "  he  never  allowed  a 
word  disrespectful  towards  them  to  be  uttered ;  he  never 
attempted  to  degrade  them  in  public  estimation,  even  on 
the  specious  plea  that  it  was  "  only  in  the  capacity  of  poli- 
ticians "  he  assailed  them.  Many  and  painful  were  the 
provocations  he  received ;  yet  he  never  was  betrayed  from 
his  impregnable  position  of  mingled  firmness  and  prudence. 
It  was  hard  to  find  the  powers  of  an  oppressive  govern- 


562 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


ment  —  fines  and  penalties,  proclamations  and  prosecu- 
tions —  smiting  him  at  ever}^  step,  and  withal  behold  not 
only  the  Catholic  aristocracy,  but  the  chief  members  of 
the  hierarchy  also  arrayed  against  him,  negativelj^  sustain- 
ing and  encouraging  the  tyranny  of  the  government.  But 
he  bore  it  all ;  for  he  well  knew  that,  calamitous  as  was 
the  conduct  of  those  prelates,  it  proceeded  from  no  corrupt 
or  selfish  consideration,  but  arose  from  weakness  of  judg- 
ment, when  dealing  with  such  critical  legal  and  political 
questions.  He  bore  their  negative,  if  not  positive,  oppo- 
sition long  and  patiently,  and  in  the  end  had  the  triumph 
of  seeing  many  converts  from  amongst  his  early  opponents 
zealous  in  action  by  his  side,  and  of  feeling  that  no  word 
or  act  of  his  had  weakened  the  respect,  veneration,  and 
affection  due  from  a  Catholic  people  to  their  pastors  and 
prelates. 

From  the  outset  he  was  loyally  sustained  by  the  Catho- 
lic mercantile  classes,  by  the  body  of  the  clergy,  and  by  the 
masses  of  the  population  in  town  and  country.  Owing 
to  the  attitude  of  the  bishops,  the  secidar  or  parochial 
clergy  for  a  time  deemed  it  prudent  to  hold  aloof  from 
any  very  prominent  participation  in  the  movement,  though 
their  sentiments  were  never  doubted.  But  the  regular 
clergy  —  the  religious  orders  flung  themselves  ardently 
into  the  people's  cause.  When  everj"  other  place  of  meet- 
ing, owing  to  one  cause  or  another,  was  closed  against  the 
young  Catholic  leaders,  the  Carmelite  church  in  Clarendon 
Street  became  their  rallying  point  and  place  of  assembly 
in  Dublin,  freely  given  for  the  purpose  by  the  community. 

O'Connell  laid  down  as  the  basis  of  his  political  action 
in  Ireland  this  proposition,  Ireland  cannot  fight  England^ 
From  this  he  evolved  others.  If  Ireland  try  to  fight 
England,  she  will  be  worsted.  She  has  tried  too  often. 
She  must  not  try  it  any  more."  That  acumen,  the  pre- 
science, in  which  he  excelled  all  men  of  his  generation, 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


563 


taught  him  that  a  change  was  coming  over  the  world,  and 
that  superior  might  —  brute  force  —  would  not  always  be 
able  to  resist  the  power  of  opinion,  could  not  always  afford 
to  be  made  odious  and  rendered  morally  weak.  Above  all, 
he  knew  that  there  remained,  at  the  worst,  to  an  oppressed 
people  unable  to  match  their  oppressors  in  a  military  strug- 
gle, the  grand  policy  of  Passive  Resistance^  by  which  the 
weak  can  drag  down  the  haughty  and  the  strong. 

Moulding  all  his  movements  on  these  principles,  O'Con- 
nell  resolved  to  show  his  countrymen  that  they  could  win 
their  rights  by  action  strictly  within  the  constitution. 
And,  very  naturally,  therefore,  he  regarded  the  man  who 
would  even  ever  so  slightly  tempt  them  outside  of  it,  as 
their  direst  enemy.  He  happily  combined  in  himself  all 
the  qualifications  for  guiding  them  through  that  system  of 
guerilla  warfare  in  politics,  which  alone  could  enable 
them  to  defeat  the  government,  without  violating  the  law ; 
quick  to  meet  each  dexterous  evolution  of  the  foe  by  some 
equally  ingenious  artifice ;  evading  the  ponderous  blow 
designed  to  crush  him  —  disappearing  in  one  guise,  only  to 
start  up  in  another.  No  man  but  himself  could  have  car- 
ried the  people,  as  he  did,  safely  and  victoriously  through 
such  a  campaign,  with  the  scanty  political  resources  then 
possessed  by  Irish  Catholics.  It  was  scarcely  hyperbole 
to  call  him  the  Moses  of  the  modern  Israel. 

His  was  no  smooth  and  straight  road.  Young  Irishmen 
can  scarcely  realise  the  discouragements  and  difficulties, 
the  repeated  failures  —  seeming  failures  —  the  reverses,  that 
often  flung  him  backward,  apparently  defeated.  But  with 
him  there  was  no  such  word  as  fail.  The  people  trusted 
him  and  followed  him  with  the  docile  and  trustful  obedi- 
ence of  troops  obeying  the  commands  of  a  chosen  general. 
For  them — for  the  service  of  Ireland  —  he  gave  up  his 
professional  prospects.  He  laboured  for  them,  he  thought 
for  them,  he  lived  but  for  them ;  and  he  was  ready  to  die 


564 


THE  STORY  OF  IE  EL  ANT), 


for  them.  A  trained  shot  —  a  chosen  bravo  —  D'Esterre 
—  was  set  on  by  the  Orange  Corporation  of  Dublin  to 
shoot  him  down  in  a  duel.  O'Connell  met  his  adversary 
at  eighteen  paces,  and  laid  him  mortally  wounded  on  the 
field.  By  degrees  even  those  who  for  long  years  had  held 
aloof  from  the  Catholic  leader  began  to  bow  in  homage  to 
the  sovereignty  conferred  by  the  popular  will ;  and  Eng- 
lish ministries,  one  by  one,  found  themselves  powerless  to 
grapple  with  the  influence  he  wielded.  If,  indeed,  they 
could  but  goad  or  entrap  him  into  a  breach  of  the  law;  if 
they  could  only  persuade  the  banded  Irish  millions  to 
obligingly  meet  England  in  the  arena  of  her  choice  — 
namely,  the  field  of  war  —  then  the  ministerial  anxieties 
would  be  over.  They  could  soon  make  an  end  of  the 
Catholic  cause  there.  But,  most  provokingly,  O'Connell 
was  able  to  baffle  this  idea  —  was  able  to  keep  the  most 
high-spirited,  impetuous,  and  war-loving  people  in  the 
world  deaf^  as  it  were,  to  all  such  challenges ;  callous,  as 
it  were,  to  all  such  provocations.  They  would,  most  vex- 
atiously,  persist  in  choosing  their  own  ground,  their  own 
tactics,  their  own  time  and  mode  of  action,  and  would  not 
allow  England  to  force  hers  upon  them  at  all.  Such  a 
policy  broke  the  heart  and  maddened  the  brain  of  English 
oppression.  In  vain  the  king  stormed  and  the  Duke  of 
York  swore.  In  vain  the  old  "  saws  "  of  "  Utopian  dreams  " 
and  ''splendid  phantoms"  were  flung  at  the  emancipa- 
tionists. Men  sagely  pointed  out  that  emancipation  was 
"  inconsistent  with  the  coronation  oath  ;  "  was  ".incompati- 
ble with  the  British  constitution  ;  "  that  it  involved  the 
severance  of  the  countries,"  ''the  dismemberment  of  the 
empire,"  and  that  "  England  would  spend  her  last  shilling, 
and  her  last  man,  rather  than  grant  it."  Others,  equally 
profound,  declared  that  in  a  week  after  emancipation, 
Irish  Catholics  and  Protestants  "  would  be  cutting  each 
other's  throats  ;  "  that  there  would  be  a  massacre  of  Prot- 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


565 


estants  all  over  the  island,  and  that  it  was  England's 
duty,  in  the  interests  of  good  order,  civilization,  and 
humanity,  not  to  afford  an  opportunity  for  such  anarchy. 

There  is  a  most  ancient  and  fishlike  smell  about  these 
precious  arguments.  They  are,  indeed,  very  old  and  much 
decayed  ;  yet  my  young  readers  will  find  them  always  used 
whenever  an  Irish  demand  for  freedom  cannot  be  encoun- 
tered on  the  merits. 

But  none  of  them  could  impose  upon  or  frighten  O'Con- 
nell.  He  went  on,  rousing  the  whole  people  into  one 
mass  of  fierce  earnestness  and  enthusiasm,  until  the  island 
glowed  and  heaved  like  a  volcano.  Peel  and  Wellington 
threatened  war.  Coercion  acts  followed  each  other  in 
quick  succession.  Suddenly  there  appeared  a  siglit  as  hor- 
rific to  English  oppression,  as  the  hand  upon  the  wall 
to  Belshazzar  —  Irish  regiments  cheering  for  0' Connell! 
Then,  indeed,  the  hand  that  held  the  chain  shook  with  the 
palsy  of  mortal  fear.  Peel  and  Wellington  —  those  same 
ministers  whose  especial  "  platform  "  was  resistance  a  Vou- 
trance  to  Catholic  emancipation  —  came  down  to  the  House 
of  Commons,  and  told  the  assembled  Parliament  that 
Catholic  emancipation  must  be  granted.  The  "  Man  of 
the  People  "  had  conquered  ! 


566 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


CHAPTER  LXXXIV. 

HOW  THE  IRISH  PEOPLE  NEXT  SOUGHT  TO  ACHIEVE  THE 
RESTORATION  OF  THEIR  LEGISLATIVE  INDEPENDENCE. 
HOW  ENGLAND  ANSWERED  THEM  WITH  A  CHALLENGE 
TO  THE  SWORD. 

MANCIPATION  was  won;  yet  there  was  a  ques- 
tion nearer  and  dearer  even  than  emancipation 
to  O'ConnelFs  heart  —  the  question  of  national 
independence  —  the  repeal  of  the  iniquitous 
Union.  It  might  be  thought  that  as  an  emancipated 
Catholic  he  would  be  drawn  towards  the  legislature  that 
had  freed  him,  rather  than  to  that  which  had  forged  the 
shackles  thus  struck  off.  But  O'Connell  had  the  spirit 
and  the  manhood  of  a  patriot.  While  yet  he  wore  those 
penal  chains,  he  publicly  declared  that  he  would  willingly 
forfeit  all  chance  of  emancipation  from  the  British  parlia- 
ment for  the  certainty  of  repeal.  His  first  public  speech 
had  been  made  against  the  Union ;  and  even  so  early  as 
1812,  he  contemplated  relinquishing  the  agitation  for 
emancipation,  and  devoting  all  his  energies  to  a  movement 
for  repeal,  but  was  dissuaded  from  that  purpose  by  his 
colleagues. 

Now,  however,  his  hands  were  free,  and  scarcely  had  he 
been  a  year  in  parliamentary  harness,  when  he  unfurled 
the  standard  of  repeal.  His  new  organization  was  instan- 
taneously suppressed  by  proclamation  —  the  act  of  the 
Irish  secretary.  Sir  Henry  Hardinge.  The  proclamation 
was  illegal,  yet  O'Connell  bowed  to  it.  He  denounced  it 
however  as  "an  atrocious  Polignae  proclamation,"  and 
plainly  intimated  his  conviction  that  Hardinge  designed 
to  force  the  country  into  a  fight.    Not  that  O'Connell 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


567 


''abjured  the  sword  and  stigmatized  the  sword"  in  the 
abstract;  but,  as  he  himself  expressed  it,  the  time  had 
not  come.  ''Why,"  said  he,  "I  would  rather  be  a  dog, 
and  bay  the  moon,  than  the  Irishman  who  would  tamely 
submit  to  so  infamous  a  proclamation.  I  have  not  op- 
posed it  hitherto,  because  that  would  implicate  the  peo- 
ple and  give  our  enemies  a  triumph.  But  I  will  oppose 
it,  and  that,  too,  not  in  the  way  that  the  paltry  Castle 
scribe  would  wish  —  by  force.  No.  Ireland  is  not  in  a 
state  for  repelling  force  by  force.  Too  short  a  period  has 
elapsed  since  the  cause  of  contention  between  Protestants 
and  Catholics  was  removed — too  little  time  has  been 
given  for  healing  the  wounds  of  factious  contention,  to 
allow  Ireland  to  .use  physical  force  in  the  attainment  of 
her  rights,  or  her  punishment  of  wrong." 

Hardly  had  his  first  repeal  society  been  suppressed  by 
the  "Polignac  proclamation,"  than  he  established  a  second, 
styled  "  The  Irish  Volunteers  for  the  Repeal  of  the 
Union."  Another  government  proclamation  as  quickly 
appeared  suppressing  this  body  also.  O'Connell,  ever 
fertile  of  resort,  now  organized  w^hat  he  called  "Repeal 
Breakfasts."  "If  the  government,"  said  he,  "think  fit  to 
proclaim  down  breakfasts,  then  we'll  resort  to  a  political 
lunch.  If  the  luncheon  be  equally  dangerous  to  the  peace 
of  the  great  duke  (the  viceroy),  we  shall  have  political 
dinners.  If  the  dinners  be  proclaimed  down,  we  must, 
like  certain  sanctified  dames,  resort  to  '  tea  and  tracts.'  " 
The  breakfasts  icere  "proclaimed  ; "  but,  in  defiance  of  the 
proclamation,  went  on  as  usual,  whereupon  O'Connell 
was  arrested,  and  held  to  bail  to  await  his  trial.  He  was 
not  daunted.  "  Were  I  fated  to-morrow,"  said  he,  "  to 
ascend  the  scaffold  or  go  down  to  the  grave,  I  should 
bequeath  to  my  children  eternal  hatred  of  the  Unions 

The  prosecution  was  subsequently  abandoned,  and  soon 
afterwards  it  became  plain  that  O'Connell  had  been  per- 


568 


THE  STOliY  OF  IRELAND. 


suaded  by  the  English  reform  leaders  that  the  question 
for  Ireland  was  what  they  called  "  the  great  cause  of 
reform  "  —  and  that  from  a  reformed  parliament  Ireland 
would  obtain  full  justice.  Accordingly  he  flung  himself 
heartily  into  the  ranks  of  the  English  reformers.  Reform 
was  carried ;  and  almost  the  first  act  of  the  reformed  par- 
liament was  to  pass  a  Coercion  Bill  for  Ireland  more  atro- 
cious than  any  of  its  numerous  predecessors ! 

All  the  violence  of  the  English  Tories  had  failed  to 
shake  O'Connell.  The  blandishments  of  the  Whigs  fared 
otherwise.  Union  with  English  liberals"  —  union  with 
"the  great  liberal  party" — was  now  made  to  appear  to 
him  the  best  hope  of  Ireland.  To  yoke  this  giant  to  the 
Whig  chariot,  the  Whig  leaders  were  willing  to  pay  a  high 
price.  Place,  pension,  emolument,  to  any  extent,  O'Con- 
nell might  have  had  from  them  at  will.  The  most  lucra- 
tive and  exalted  posts  —  positions  in  which  he  and  all  his 
family  might  have  lived  and  died  in  ease  and  affluence  — 
were  at  his  acceptance.  But  O'Connell  was  neither  cor- 
rupt nor  selfish,  though  in  his  alliance  with  the  Whigs  he 
exhibited  a  lack  of  his  usual  firmness  and  perspicuity. 
He  would  accept  nothing  for  himself,  but  he  demanded 
the  nomination  in  great  part  of  the  Irish  executive,  and  a 
veto,  on  the  selection  of  a  viceroy.  The  terms  were 
granted,  and  it  is  unquestioned  and  unquestionable  that 
the  Irish  executive  thus  chosen  —  the  administration  of 
Lord  Mulgrave — was  the  only  one  Ireland  had  known 
for  nigh  two  hundred  years  —  the  first,  and  the  only  one, 
in  the  present  century  —  that  possessed  the  confidence 
and  commanded  the  respect,  attachment,  and  sympathy  of 
the  Irish  people. 

"  3Ien,  not  measures^''^  however,  was  the  sum  total .  of 
advantage  O'Connell  found  derivable  from  his  alliance 
with  the  great  liberal  party.  Excellent  appointments 
were  made,  and  numerous  Catholics  were,  to  the  horror 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


569 


of  the  Orange  faction,  placed  in  administrative  positions 
throughout  the  country.  But  this  modicum  of  good 
(which  had,  moreover,  as  we  shall  see,  its  counterbalan- 
cing evil),  did  not,  in  O'Connell's  estimation,  compensate 
for  the  inability,  or  indisposition,  of  the  administration  to 
pass  adequate  remedial  measures  for  the  country.  He  had 
given  the  Union  system  a  fair  trial  under  its  most  favour- 
able circumstances,  and  the  experiment  only  taught  him 
that,  in  Home  Rule  alone  could  Ireland  hope  for  just  or 
protective  government. 

Impelled  by  this  conviction,  on  the  15th  of  April,  1840, 
he  established  the  Loyal  National  Repeal  Association,  a 
body  destined  to  play  an  important  part  in  Irish  politics. 

The  new  association  was  a  very  weak  and  unpromising 
project  for  some  time.  Men  were  not,  at  first,  convinced 
that  O'Connell  was  in  earnest.  Moreover,  the  evil  that 
eventually  tended  so  much  to  ruin  the  association,  was 
now,  even  in  its  incipient  stages,  beginnilig  to  be  felt. 
The  appointment  by  government  of  popular  leaders  to 
places  of  emolument  —  an  apparent  boon  —  a  flattering 
concession,  as  it  seemed,  to  the  spirit  of  emancipation  — 
opened  up  to  the  administration  an  entirely  new  field  of 
action  in  their  designs  against  any  embarrassing  popular 
movement.  O'Connell  himself  was  a  tower  of  personal 
and  public  integrity ;  but  amongst  his  subordinates  were 
men,  who,  by  no  means,  possessed  his  adamantine  virtue. 
It  was  only  when  the  Melbourne  (Whig)  ministry  fell, 
and  the  Peel  (Tory)  ministr}'  came  into  power,  that  (gov- 
ernment places  for  Catholic  agitators  being  no  longer  in 
the  market)  the  full  force  of  his  old  following  rallied  to 
O'Conneirs  side  in  his  repeal  campaign.  It  would  have 
been  well  for  Ireland,  if  most  of  them  had  never  taken 
such  a  step.  Some  of  them  were  at  best  intrinsically 
rude,  and  almost  worthless,  instruments,  whom  O'Connell 
in  past  days  had  been  obliged  in  sheer  necessity  to  use. 


570 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


Others  of  them,  of  a  better  stamp,  had  had  their  day  of 
usefulness  and  virtue,  but  now  it  was  gone.  Decay, 
physical  and  moral,  had  set  in.  A  new  generation  was 
just  stepping  into  manhood,  with  severer  ideas  of  personal 
and  public  morality,  with  purer  tastes  and  loftier  ambi- 
tions, with  more  intense  and  fiery  ardour.  Yet  there  were 
also  amongst  the  adherents  of  the  great  tribune,  some 
who  brought  to  the  repeal  cause  a  fidelity  not  to  be  sur- 
passed, integrity  beyond  price,  ability  of  the  highest 
order,  and  a  matured  experience,  in  which,  of  course,  the 
new  growth  of  men  were  entirely  deficient. 

In  three  years  the  movement  for  national  autonomy 
swelled  into  a  magnitude  that  startled  the  world.  Never 
did  a  nation  so  strikingly  manifest  its  will.  About  three 
millions  of  associates  paid  yearly  towards  the  repeal  asso- 
ciation funds.  As  many  more  were  allied  to  the  cause  by 
sympathy.  Meetings  to  petition  against  the  Union  were,  at 
several  places,  attended  by  six  hundred  thousand  persons ; 
by  eight  hundred  thousand  at  two  places ;  and  by  nearly  a 
million  at  one  —  Tara  Hill.  All  these  gigantic  demonstra- 
tions, about  forty  in  number,  were  held  without  the  slight- 
est accident,  or  the  slightest  infringement  of  the  peace. 
Order,  sobriety,  respect  for  the  laws,  were  the  watchwords 
of  the  millions. 

England  was  stripped  of  the  slightest  chance  of  deceiv- 
ing the  world  as  to  the  nature  of  her  relations  with  Ire- 
land. The  people  of  Israel,  with  one  voice,  besought 
Pharaoh  to  let  them  go  free ;  but  the  heart  of  Pharaoh 
was  hard  as  stone. 

O'Connell  was  not  prepared  for  the  obduracy  of  tyran- 
nic strength  which  he  encountered.  So  completely  was 
he  impressed  with  the  conviction  that  the  ministry  must 
yield  to  the  array  of  an  almost  unanimous  people,  that  in 
1843  he  committed  himself  to  a  specific  promise  and  sol- 
emn undertaking  that  ''within  six  months"  repeal  would 
be  an  accomplished  fact. 


THE  STOBY  OF  IBELAND. 


671 


This  fatal  promise  —  the  gigantic  error  of  his  life  — 
suggested  to  the  minister  the  sure  means  to  effect  the 
overthrow  of  O'Connell  and  his  movement.  To  break 
the  spell  of  his  magic  influence  over  the  people  —  to  de- 
stroy their  hitherto  unshaken  confidence  in  him  —  to  pub- 
licly discredit  his  most  solemn  and  formal  covenant  with 
them  —  (that  if  they  would  but  keep  the  peace  and  obey 
his  instructions,  he  would  as  surely  as  the  sun  shone  on 
them,  obtain  repeal  within  six  months) — it  was  now 
necessary  merely  to  hold  out  for  six  or  twelve  months 
longer,  and  by  some  bold  stroke,  even  at  the  risk  of  a 
civil  war,  to  fall  upon  O'Connell  and  his  colleagues  with 
all  the  rigours  of  the  law,  and  publicly  degrade  them. 

This  daring  and  dangerous  scheme  Peel  carried  out. 
First  he  garrisoned  the  country  with  an  overwhelming 
force,  and  then,  so  far  from  jdelding  repeal,  trampled  on 
the  constitution,  challenged  the  people  to  war,  prepared 
for  a  massacre  at  Clontarf — averted  only  by  the  utmost 
exertions  of  the  popular  leaders  —  and,  finally,  he  had 
O'Connell  and  his  colleagues  publicly  arraigned,  tried,  and 
convicted  as  conspirators,  and  dragged  to  jail  as  criminals. 

O'Connell's  promise  was  defeated.  His  spell  was 
broken  from  that  hour.    All  the  worse  for  England. 

All  the  w^orse  for  England,  as  crime  is  always,  even 
where  it  wins  present  advantage,  all  the  worse  for  those 
who  avail  of  it.  For  what  had  England  done  ?  Here  was 
a  man,  the  corner-stones  of  whose  policy,  the  first  princi- 
ples of  whose  public  teaching,  were — loyalty,  firm  and 
fervent,  to  the  throne  ;  respect,  strict  and  scrupulous,  for 
the  laws ;  confidence  in  the  prevalence  of  reasoning  force ; 
reliance,  complete  and  exclusive,  upon  the  efficacy  of 
peaceful,  legal,  and  constitutional  action. 

Yet  this  was  the  man  whom  England  prosecuted  as  a 
conspirator  !  These  were  the  teachings  she  punished  with 
fine  and  imprisonment ! 


572 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


The  Iritsh  people,  through  O'Connell,  had  said  to  Eng- 
land :  "  Let  us  reason  this  question.  Let  there  be  an  end 
of  resort  to  force."  England  answered  bj^  a  flourish  of 
the  mailed  hand.  She  would  have  no  reasoning  on  the 
subject.  She  pointed  to  her  armies  and  fleets,  her  arsenals 
and  dockyards,  her  shotted  gun  and  whetted  sabre. 

In  that  hour  a  silent  revolution  was  wrought  in  the  pop- 
ular mind  of  Ireland.  Up  to  that  moment  a  peaceable,  an 
amicable,  a  friendly  settlement  of  the  question  between 
the  two  countries,  was  easy  enough.    But  now ! 

The  law  lords  in  the  British  House  of  Peers,  by  three 
votes  to  two,  decided  that  the  conviction  of  O'Connell 
and  his  colleagues  was  wrongful.  Every  one  knew  that. 
There  was  what  the  minister  judged  to  be  a  "  state  neces- 
sity "  for  showing  that  the  government  could  and  would 
publicly  defy  and  degrade  O'Connell  by  conviction  and 
imprisonment,  innocent  or  guilty ;  and  as  this  had  been 
triumphantly  accomplished.  Peel  cared  not  a  jot  that  the 
full  term  of  punishment  was  thus  cut  short.  O'Connell 
left  his  prison  cell  a  broken  man.  Overwhelming  demon- 
strations of  unchanged  affection  and  personal  attachment 
poured  in  upon  him  from  his  countrymen.  Their  faith  in 
his  devotion  to  Ireland  was  increased  a  hundred-fold; 
but  their  faith  in  the  efficacy  of  his  policy,  or  the  surety 
of  his  promises,  was  gone. 

He  himself  saw  and  felt  it,  and,  marking  the  effect  the 
government  course  had  wrought  upon  the  new  generation 
of  Irishmen,  he  was  troubled  in  soul.  England  had  dared 
them  to  grapple  with  her  power.  He  trembled  at  the 
thought  of  what  the  result  might  be  in  years  to  come. 
Already  the  young  crop  of  Irish  manhood  had  become 
recognizable  as  a  distinct  political  element  —  a  distinct 
school  of  thought  and  action.  At  the  head  of  this  party 
blazed  a  galaxj^  of  genius  —  Poets,  Orators,  Scholars, 
Writers,  and  Organizers.    It  was  the  party  of  Youth  with 


THE  STonr  OF  IBELAND. 


573 


its  generous  impulses,  its  roseate  hopes,  its  classic  models, 
its  glorious  daring,  its  pure  devotion.  The  old  man 
feared  the  issue  between  this  hot  blood  and  the  cold,  stern 
tyranny  that  had  shown  its  disregard  for  law  and  con- 
science. Age  was  now  heavily  upon  him,  and,  moreover, 
there  were  those  around  him  fall  of  jealousy  against  the 
young  leaders  of  the  Irish  Gironde  —  full  of  envy  of  their 
brilliant  genius,  their  public  fame,  their  popular  influence. 
The  gloomiest  forebodings  arose  to  the  old  man's  mind,  or 
were  sedulously  conjured  up  before  it  by  those  who  sur- 
rounded him. 

Soon  a  darker  shade  came  to  deepen  the  gloom  that  was 
settling  on  the  horizon  of  his  future.  Famine  —  terrible 
and  merciless  —  fell  upon  the  land.  Or  rather,  one  crop, 
out  of  the  many  grown  on  Irish  soil  —  that  one  on  which 
the  masses  of  the  people  fed  —  perished;  and  it  became 
plain  the  government  would  let  the  people  perish  too.  In 
1846  the  long  spell  of  conservative  rule  came  to  a  close, 
and  the  Whigs  came  into  office.  Place  was  once  more  to  be 
had  by  facile  Catholic  agitators  ;  and  now  the  Castle  back- 
stairs was  literally  thronged  with  the  old  hacks  of  Irish 
agitation,  filled  with  a  fine  glowing  indignation  against 
those  "  purists  "  of  the  new  school  who  denied  that  it  was 
a  good  thing  to  have  friends  in  office.  Here  was  a  new 
source  of  division  between  the  old  and  new  elements  in 
Irish  popular  politics.  O'Connell  himself  was  as  far  as 
ever  from  bending  to  the  acceptance  of  personal  favour 
from  the  government;  but  some  of  his  near  relatives  and 
long-time  colleagues,  or  subordinates,  in  agitation,  were 
one  by  one  being  "placed"  by  the  Viceroy,  amidst  fierce 
invectives  from  the  "  Young  Ireland  "  party,  as  thej^  were 
called. 

All  these  troubles  seemed  to  be  shaking  from  its  foun- 
dations the  mind  of  the  old  Tribune,  who  every  day  sunk 
more  and  more  into  the  hands  of  his  personal  adherents. 


674 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


He  became  at  length  fully  persuaded  of  the  necessity  of 
fettering  the  young  party.  He  framed  a  test  declaration 
for  members  of  tlie  association,  repudiating,  disclaiming, 
denouncing,  and  abhorring  the  use  of  physical  force  under 
any  possible  circumstances^  or  in  any  age  or  country.  This 
monstrous  absurdity  showed  that  the  once  glorious  intel- 
lect of  O'Connell  was  gone.  In  his  constant  brooding 
over  the  dangers  of  an  insurrection  in  which  the  people 
would  be  slaughtered  like  sheep,  he  struck  upon  this  re- 
sort, apparentlj^  unable  to  see  that  it  was  opposed  to  all 
liis  own  past  teaching  and  practice  —  nay,  opposed  to  all 
law,  human  and  divine  —  that  it  would  converse  and  en- 
throne the  most  iniquitous  tyrannies,  and  render  man  the 
abject  slave  of  power. 

The  young  party  offered  to  take  this  test  as  far  as  related 
to  t\iQ  preseyit  or  the  future  of  Ireland;  but  they  refused 
to  stigmatize  the  patriot  brave  of  all  history  who  had  bled 
and  died  for  liberty.  This  would  not  suffice,  and  the 
painful  fact  became  clear  enough  that  the  monstrous  test 
resolutions  were  meant  to  drive  them  from  the  association. 
On  the  27th  of  July,  1846,  the  Young  Ireland  leaders, 
refusing  a  test  which  was  a  treason  against  truth,  justice, 
and  liberty,  quitted  Conciliation  Hall,  and  Irish  Ireland 
was  rent  into  bitterly  hostile  parties. 

Not  long  afterwards  the  insidious  disease,  the  approach 
of  which  was  proclaimed  clearly  enough  in  O'Connell's 
recent  proceedings  —  softening  of  the  brain  —  laid  the  old 
chieftain  low.  He  had  felt  the  approach  of  dissolution, 
and  set  out  on  a  pilgrimage  that  had  been  his  life-long 
dream  —  a  visit  to  Rome.  And  assuredly  a  splendid  wel- 
come awaited  him  there  ;  the  first  Catholic  Layman  in 
Europe,  the  Emancipator  of  seven  millions  of  Catholics,  the 
most  illustrious  Christian  patriot  of  his  age.  But  heaven 
decreed  otherwise.  A  brighter  welcome  in  a  better  land 
awaited  the  toil-worn  soldier  of  faith  and  fatherland.  At 


TBE  STORY  OF  IBELAND. 


575 


Marseilles,  on  his  way  to  Rome,  it  became  clear  that  a 
crisis  was  at  hand ;  yet  he  would  fain  push  onward  for 
the  Eternal  City.  In  Genoa  the  Superb  he  breathed  his 
last :  bequeathing,  with  his  dying  breath,  his  body  to  Ire- 
land, his  heart  to  Rome,  his  soul  to  God.  All  Christen- 
dom was  plunged  into  mourning.  The  world  poured  its 
homage  of  respect  above  his  bier.  Ireland,  the  land  for 
which  he  had  lived  and  laboured,  gave  him  a  funeral 
nobly  befitting  his  title  of  Uncrowned  Monarch.  But 
more  honouring  than  funeral  pageant,  more  worthy  of  his 
memory,  was  the  abiding  grief  that  fell  upon  the  people 
who  had  loved  him  with  such  a  deep  devotion. 


CHAPTER  LXXXV. 

HOW  THE  HORRORS  OF  THE  FAMINE  HAD  THEIR  EFFECT 
ON  IRISH  POLITICS.  HOW  THE  FRENCH  REVOLUTION 
SET  EUROPE  IN  A  FLAME.  HOW  IRELAND  MADE  A 
VAIN  ATTEMPT  AT  INSURRECTION. 

MIDST  the  horrors  of  Black  Forty-seven,"  the 
reason  of  strong  men  gave  way  in  Ireland, 
The  people  lay  dead  in  hundreds  on  the  high- 
ways and  in  the  fields.  There  was  food  in  abun- 
dance in  the  country ;  ^  but  the  government  said  it  should 
not  be  touched,  unless  in  accordance  with  the  teachings 
of  Adam  Smith  and  the    laws  of  political  economy." 

The  mechanism  of  an  absentee  government  utterly 
broke  down,  even  in  carrying  out  its  own  tardy  and  ineffi- 


1  The  corn  exported  from  Ireland  that  year  would,  alone,  it  is  computed, 
have  sufficed  to  feed  a  larger  population. 


oT6 


THE  SfORr  OF  lUELANh, 


cient  measures.  The  charity  of  the  English  people  to- 
wards the  end  generouslj^-  endeavoured  to  compensate  for 
the  inefficiency,  or  the  heartlessness,  of  the  government. 
But  it  could  not  be  done.  The  people  perished  in  thou- 
sands.   Ireland  was  one  huge  charnel-pit. 

It  is  not  wonderful  that  amidst  scenes  like  these  some 
passionate  natures  burst  into  rash  resolves.  Better,  they 
cried,  the  people  died  bravely  with  arms  in  their  hands, 
ridding  themselves  of  such  an  imh^GilQ  regime  ;  better  Ire- 
land was  reduced  to  a  cinder,  than  endure  the  horrible 
physical  and  moral  ruin  being  wrought  before  men's  eyes. 
The  daring  apostle  of  these  doctrines  was  John  Mitchel. 
Men  called  him  mad.  Well  might  it  have  been  so.  Few 
natures  like  his  could  have  calmly  looked  on  at  a  people 
perishing  —  rotting  away  —  under  the  hands  of  blunder- 
ing and  incompetent,  if  not  callous  and  heartless,  foreign 
rulers.  But  he  protested  he  was  "  not  mad,  most  noble 
Festus."  An  unforeseen  circumstance  came  to  the  aid  of 
the  frenzied  leader.  In  February,  1848,  the  people  rose 
in  the  streets  of  Paris,  and  in  three  days'  struggle  pulled 
down  one  of  the  strongest  military  governments  in  Europe. 
All  the  continent  burst  into  a  flame.  North,  south,  east, 
and  west,  the  people  rose,  thrones  tottered,  and  rulers 
fell.  Once  again  the  blood  of  Ireland  was  turned  to  Sre. 
What  nation  of  them  all,  it  was  asked,  had  such  madden- 
ing wrongs  as  Ireland  ?  While  all  around  her  were  rising 
in  appeals  to  the  God  of  battles,  was  she  alone  to  crouch 
and  whine  like  a  beggar  ?  Was  England  stronger  than 
other  governments  that-  now  daily  crumbled  at  the  first 
shock  of  conflict? 

Even  a  people  less  impulsive  and  hot-blooded  than  the 
Irish  would  have  been  powerless  to  withstand  these  incite- 
ments. The  Young  Ireland  leaders  had  almost  unani- 
mously condemned  Mitchel's  policy  when  first  it  had  been 
preached ;  but  this  new  state  of  things  was  too  much  for 


THU:  STOItY  OF  IRELAnt), 


677 


them.  They  were  swept  off  their  feet  by  the  fierce  bil- 
lows of  popular  excitement.  To  resist  the  cry  for  war 
was  deemed  cowardly."  Ere  long  even  the  calmest  of 
the  Young  Ireland  chiefs  yielded  to  the  epidemic,  and  be- 
came persuaded  that  the  time  at  length  had  come  when 
Ireland  might  safely  and  righteously  appeal  for  justice  to 
God  and  her  own  strong  right  arm. 

Alas !  all  this  was  the  fire  of  fever  in  the  blood,  not  the 
strength  of  health  in  that  wasted  famine-stricken  nation ! 

Nevertheless,  the  government  was  filled  with  alarm.  It 
fell  upon  the  popular  leaders  with  savage  fury.  Mitchel 
was  the  first  victim.  He  had  openly  defied  the  govern- 
ment to  the  issue.  He  had  openly  said  and  preached  that 
English  government  was  murdering  the  people,  and  ought 
to  be  swept  away  at  once  and  for  ever.  So  prevalent  was 
this  conviction  —  at  all  events  its  first  proposition  ^  —  in 
Ireland  at  the  time,  that  the  government  felt  that  accord- 
ing to  the  rules  of  fair  constitutional  procedure,  Mitchel 
would  be  sustained  in  a  court  of  justice.  That  is  to  say, 
a  "jury  of  his  countrymen " /azVZ?/  empanelled,  would, 
considering  all  the  circumstances,  declare  him  a  patriot, 
not  a  criminal.  So  the  government  was  fain  to  collect 
twelve  of  its  own  creatures,  or  partisans,  and  send  them 
into  a  jury  box  to  convict  him  in  imitation  of  a  trial." 
Standing  in  the  dock  where  Emmet  stood  half  a  century 
before,  he  gloried  in  the  sacrifice  he  was  about  to  consum- 
mate for  Ireland,  and,  like  another  Scaevola,  .told  his 
judges  that  three  hundred  comrades  were  ready  to  dare 
the  same  fate.     The  court  rang  with  shouts  from  the 

1  So  distressingly  obvious  was  the  caUousness  of  the  government  to 
the  horrors  of  the  famine  —  so  inhuman  its  policy  in  declaring  that  the 
millions  should  perish  rather  than  the  corn  market  should  be  "  disturbed  " 
by  the  action  of  the  State  —  that  coroners'  juries  in  several  i:>laces,  empan- 
elled in  the  cases  of  famine  victims,  found  as  their  verdict,  on  oath,  "  Wil- 
ful murder  against  Lord  John  Russell  "  (the  premier)  and  his  fellow  cabinet 
ministers. 


578 


THE  .^TORY  OF  IHELAyiJ. 


rTowding  auditors,  that  each  one  and  all  were  ready  to 
follow  him  —  that  not  three  hundred,  but  three  hundred 
thousand,  were  his  companions  in  the  '-crime''  of  which 
he  stood  convicted.  Before  the  echoes  had  quite  died 
away  in  Green  Street.  John  Mitchel,  loaded  with  irons, 
was  hurried  on  board  a  government  transport  ship,  and 
carried  off  into  captivity. 

He  had  not  promised  all  in  vain.  Into  his  vacant  place 
there  now  stepped  one  of  the  most  remarkable  men  —  one 
of  the  purest  and  most  devoted  patriots  —  Ireland  ever 
produced.  Gentle  and  guileless  as  a  child,  modest  and^ 
retiring,  disliking  turmoil,  and  naturalh'  averse  to  violence, 
his  was,  withal,  true  courage,  and  rarest,  noblest  daring. 
This  was  v-Jolin  Martin  of  Loughorne,*' a  Presbyterian 
gentleman  of  Ulster,  who  now,  quitting  the  congenial 
tranquillity  and  easy  independence  of  his  northern  home, 
took  his  place,  all  calmly,  but  lion-hearted,  in  the  gap  of 
danger.  He  loved  peace,  but  he  loved  truth,  honour,  and 
manhood,  and  he  hated  tyranny,  and  was  ready  to  give 
his  life  for  Ireland.  He  now  as  boldly  as  Mitchel  pro- 
claimed that  the  English  usurpation  was  murderous  in  its 
result,  and  hateful  to  all  just  men.  Martin  was  seized 
also,  and  like  Mitchel,  was  denied  real  trial  by  jury.  He 
was  brought  before  twelve  government  partisans  selected 
for  the  purpose,  convicted,  sentenced,  and  hurried  off  in 
chains. 

Seizures  and  convictions  now  multiplied  rapidly.  The 
people  would  have  risen  in  insurrection  immediately  on 
Mitchel's  conviction,  but  for  the  exhortations  of  other 
leaders,  who  pointed  out  the  ruin  of  such  a  course  at  a 
moment  when  the  food  question  alone  would  defeat  them. 
In  harvest,  it  was  resolved  on  all  sides  to  take  the  field, 
and  the  interval  was  to  be  devoted  to  energetic  prepara- 
tion. 

But  the  government  was  not  going  to  permit  this  choice 


THE  sTOBY  OF  IBELAXT). 


579 


of  time  nor  thi:?  interval  of  preparation.  In  the  last  week 
of  June  a  bill  to  suspend  the  Habeas  Corpus  Act  was 
suddenly  hurried  through  Parliament,  and  the  Young  I^e^ 
land  leaders,  scattered  through  the  country  in  the  work 
of  organization,  taken  utterly  by  surprise,  and  without 
opportunity  or  time  for  communication  or  concert,  were 
absolutely  flung  into  the  field. 

The  result  was  what  might  be  expected :  no  other  result 
was  possible,  as  human  affairs  are  ordinarily  determined. 
An  abortive  rising  took  place  in  Tipperary,  and  once  more 
some  of  the  purest,  the  bravest,  and  the  best  of  Irishmen 
were  fugitives  or  captives  for  the  old  crime  of  their  race  " 
—  high  treason  against  England. 

The  leader  in  this  movement  was  William  Smith 
O'Brien,  brother  of  the  present  Earl  of  Inchiquin,  and  a 
lineal  descendant  of  the  victor  of  Clontarf.  Like  some 
other  of  the  ancient  families  of  Ireland  of  royal  lineage, 
O'Briens  had,  generations  before  his  time,  become  com- 
pletely identified  with  the  Anglo-Irish  nobility  in  political 
and  religious  faith.  He  was,  therefore,  by  birth  an  aristo- 
crat, and  was  by  early  education  a  conservative  "  in  pol- 
itics. But  he  had  a  thoroughly  Irish  heart  withal,  and  its 
promptings,  seconded  by  the  force  of  reason,  brought  him 
in  1844  into  the  ranks  of  the  national  movement.  This 
act  —  the  result  of  pure  self-sacrificing  conviction  and 
sense  of  duty  —  sundered  all  the  ties  of  his  past  life,  and 
placed  him  in  utter  antagonism  with  his  nearest  and  dear- 
est relatives  and  friends.  He  was  a  man  endowed  with 
all  the  qualities  of  soul  that  truly  ennoble  humanity ;  a 
lofty  integrity,  a  proud  dignity,  a  perfect  inability^  so  to 
speak,  to  fall  into  an  ignoble  or  unworthy  thought  or 
action.  Unfriendly  critics  called  him  haughty,  and  said 
he  was  proud  of  his  family;  and  there  was  a  proportion 
of  truth  in  the  char^^e.  But  it  was  not  a  failinof  to  blush 
for.  after  all,  and  might  well  be  held  excusable  in  a  scion 


580 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND, 


of  the  royal  house  of  Thoinond,  filled  with  the  gloriou^^ 
spirit  of  his  ancestors. 

Such  was  the  man  —  noble  by  birth,,  fortune,  education, 
and  social  and  public  position  —  who,  towards  the  close  of 
1848,  lay  in  an  Irish  dungeon  awaiting  the  fate  of  the 
Irish  patriot  who  loves  his  country  not  wisely  but  too 
well." 

In  those  days  the  Irish  peasantry  —  the  wreck  of  that 
splendid  population,  which  a  few  years  before  were  match- 
less in  the  world  —  were  enduring  all  the  pangs  of  famine, 
or  the  humiliations  of  "  out-door  "  pauper  life.  Amidst 
this  starving  peasantry  scores  of  political  fugitives  were 
now  scattered,  pursued  by  all  the  rigours  of  the  govern- 
ment, and  w^ith  a  price  set  on  each  head.  Not  a  man  — 
not  one  —  of  the  proscribed  patriots  who  thus  sought  asy- 
lum amidst  the  people  was  betrayed.  The  starving  peas- 
ant housed  them,  sheltered  them,  shared  with  them  his 
own  scanty  meal,  guarded  them  while  they  slept,  and 
guided  them  safely  on  their  way.  He  knew  that  hundreds 
of  pounds  were  on  their  heads ;  but  he  shrank,  as  from 
perdition,  from  the  thought  of  selling  for  blood-money, 
men  whose  crime  was,  that  they  had  dared  and  lost  all 
for  poor  Ireland.! 

Dillon,  Doheny,  and  O'Gorman  made  good  their  escape 
to  Amerioa.  O'Brien,  Meagher,  and  MacManus,  were  sent 
to  follow  Mitchel,  Martin,  and  O'Doherty  into  the  convict 
chain-gangs  of  Van  Diemen's  Land.    One  man  alone  came 

1  This  devotedness,  this  singular  fidelity,  was  strikingly  illustrated  in 
tlie  conduct  of  some  Tipperary  peasants  brought  forward  compulsorily  by 
the  crown  as  witnesses  on  the  trial  of  Smith  O'Brien  for  high  treason.  They 
were  marched  in  between  files  of  bayonets.  The  crown  were  aware  that 
they  could  sujiply  the  evidence  required,  and  they  were  now  called  upon  to 
give  it.  One  and  all,  they  refused  to  give  evidence.  One  and  all,  they 
made  answer  to  the  warnings  of  the  court  that  such  refusal  would  be  pun- 
ished by  lengthened  imprisonment:  *'  Take  us  out  and  shoot  its  if  you  like, 
but  a  word  ivc  loon't  swear  uf/ainsi  the  noble  (jentleman  in  the  dock.**  The 
threatened  i)uuishment  was  inflicted,  and  was  borne  without  flinching. 


TBE  STOBY  OF  IBELAXD. 


581 


scathless,  as  by  miracle,  out  of  the  lion's  den  of  British 
law ;  Gavan  Duffy,  the  brain  of  the  Young  Ireland  party. 
Three  times  he  was  brought  to  the  torture  of  trial,  edch 
time  defying  his  foes  as  proudly  as  if  victory  had  crowned 
the  venture  of  his  colleagues.  Despite  packing  of  juries, 
the  crown  again  and  again  failed  to  obtain  a  verdict  against 
him,  and  at  length  had  to  let  him  go  free.  Free  "  —  but 
broken  and  ruined  in  health  and  fortune,  yet  not  in  hope. 

Thus  fell  that  party  whose  genius  won  the  admiration 
of  the  world,  the  purity  of  whose  motives,  the  chivalry  of 
whose  actions,  even  their  direst  foes  confessed.  They 
were  wrecked  in  a  hurricane  of  popular  enthusiasm,  to 
which  they  fatally  spread  sail.  It  is  easy  for  us  now  to 
discern  and  declare  the  huge  error  into  which  they  were 
impelled — the  error  of  meditating  an  insurrection  —  the 
error  of  judging  that  a  famishing  peasantry,  unarmed  and 
undisciplined,  could  fight  and  conquer  England  at  peace 
with  all  the  world.  But  it  is  always  easy  to  be  wise  after 
the  fact.  At  the  time  —  in  the  midst  of  that  delirium  of 
excitement,  of  passionate  resolve  and  sanguine  hope  —  it 
was  not  easy  for  generous  natures  to  choose  and  determine 
otherwise  than  as  they  did.  The  verdict  of  public  opinion 
—  the  judgment  of  their  own  country  —  the  judgment  of 
the  world  —  has  done  them  justice.  It  has  proclaimed 
their  unwise  course  the  error  of  noble,  generous,  and  self- 
sacrificing  men. 


582 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


CHAPTER  LXXXVI. 

HOW  THE  IRISH  EXODUS  CAME  ABOUT,  AND  THE  ENG- 
LISH PRESS  GLOATED  OVER  THE  ANTICIPATED  EXTIR- 
PATION OF  THE  IRISH  RACE. 

IGHTEEN  hundred  and  forty-nine  found  Ireland 
in  a  plight  as  wretched  as  had  been  hers  for 
centuries.  A  year  before,  intoxicated  with  hope, 
delirious  with  enthusiasm — now,  she  endured 
the  sickening  miseries  of  a  fearful  re-action.  She  had 
vowed  daring  deeds  —  deeds  beyond  her  strength  —  and 
now,  sick  at  heart,  she  looked  like  one  who  wished  for 
death's  relief  from  a  lot  of  misery  and  despair.  Political 
action  was  utterly  given  up.  No  political  organization  of 
any  kind  survived  Mr.  Birch  and  Lord  Clarendon.  There 
was  not  even  a  whisper  to  disturb  the  repose  of  the  Jailer- 
General  :  "  — 

"  Even  he,  the  tyrant  Arab,  slept ; 
Cahn  while  a  nation  round  him  wept."  ^ 

The  Parliament,  for  the  benefit  of  the  English  people^ 
had  recently  abolished  the  duty  on  imported  foreign  corn. 
Previously  Ireland  had  grown  corn  extensively  for  the 
English  market ;  but  now,  obliged  to  compete  with  corn- 
growing  countries  where  the  land  was  not  weighted  with 
such  oppressive  rents  as  had  been  laid  on  and  exacted  in 
Ireland  under  the  old  system,  the  Irish  farmer  found  him- 
self ruined  by  "tillage"  or  grain-raising.  Coincidently 
came  an  increased  demand  for  cattle  to  supply  the  English 
meat-market.  Corn  might  be  safely  and  cheaply  brought 
to  England  from  even  the  most  distant  climes,  but  cattle 


1  Irish  Political  Associations. 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAJVJ). 


583 


could  not.  Ireland  was  close  at  hand,  destined  by  nature, 
said  one  British  statesman,  to  grow  meat  for  our  great 
hives  of  human  industry ;  '*  clearly  intended  by  Provi- 
dence,*' said  another,  "  to  be  the  fruitful  mother  of  flocks 
and  lierds.*'  That  is  to  say,  if  high  rents  cannot  be  paid 
in  Ireland  by  growing  corn,  in  consequence  of  "free 
trade,"  they  can  by  raising  cattle. 

But  turning  a  country  from  ^ram-raising  to  cattle-raising 
meant  tlic  annihilation  of  the  agricultural  population.  For 
bullock  ranges  aiid  sheep-runs  needed  the  consolidation  of 
farms  and  the  sweeping  away  of  the  human  occupants. 
Two  or  three  herdsmen  or  shepherds  would  alone  be  re- 
quired throughout  miles  of  such  ranges and  -•runs," 
where,  under  the  tillage  system,  thousands  of  peasant 
families  found  employment  and  lived  in  peaceful  content- 
ment. 

Thus,  cleared  farms  came  to  be  desirable  with  the  land- 
lords. For,  as  a  consequence  of  "  free  trade,"  either  the 
old  rents  must  be  abandoned,  or  the  agricultural  popula- 
tion be  swept  away  ert  masse. 

Then  was  witnessed  a  monstrous  proceeding.  In  1846 
and  1847 — the  famine  years  —  while  the  people  lay  per- 
ishing, the  land  lay  wasted.  Wherever  seed  was  put  in 
the  ground,  the  hunger-maddened  victims  rooted  it  out 
and  ate  it.  raw.  Xo  crops  were  raised,  and,  of  course,  no 
rents  were  paid.  In  any  other  land  on  earth  the  first 
duty  of  the  State  would  be  to  remit,  or  compound  with 
the  land-owners  for  any  claims  advanced  for  the  rents  of 
those  famine  years.  But,  alas  I  in  cruelties  of  oppression 
endured,  Ireland  is  like  no  other  country  in  the  world. 
With  the  permission,  concurrence,  and  sustainment,  of  the 
government,  the  landlords  now  commenced  to  demand 
what  they  called  the  arrears  of  rent  for  the  past  three 
years  I  And  then  —  the  object  for  which  this  monstrous 
demand  was  made  —  failing  payment,    notices  to  quit  " 


684 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


by  the  thousand  carried  the  sentence  of  expulsion  through 
the  homesteads  of  the  doomed  people !  The  ring  of  the 
crow-bar,  the  crash  of  the  falling  roof-tree,  the  shriek  of 
the  evicted,  flung  on  the  road-side  to  die,  resounded  all 
over  the  island.  Thousands  of  families,  panic-stricken,  did 
not  wait  for  receipt  of  the  dread  mandate  at  their  own 
door.  With  breaking  hearts  they  quenched  the  hearth, 
and  bade  eternal  farewell  to  the  scenes  of  home,  flying  in 
crowds  to  the  Land  of  Liberty  in  the  West.  The  streams 
of  fugitives  swelled  to  dimensions  that  startled  Christen- 
dom ;  but  the  English  press  burst  into  a  paean  of  joy  and 
triumph:  for  now  at  last  the  Irish  question  would  be 
settled.  Now  at  last  England  would  be  at  ease.  Now 
at  last  this  turbulent,  disaffected,  untamable  race  would 
be  cleared  out.  "  In  a  short  time,"  said  the  Times^  "  a 
Catholic  Celt  will  be  as  rare  in  Ireland  as  a  Red  Indian  on 
the  shores  of  Manhattan.'''' 

Their  own  countrymen  who  remained  —  their  kindred 

—  their  own  flesh  and  blood  —  their  pastors  and  prelates 

—  could  not  witness  unmoved  this  spectacle,  unexampled 
in  history,  the  flight  en  masse  of  a  population  from  their 
own  beautiful  land,  not  as  adventurous  emigrants,  but  as 
heart-crushed  victims  of  expulsion.  Some  voices,  accord- 
ingly, were  raised  to  deplore  this  calamity  —  to  appeal  to 
England,  to  warn  her  that  evil  would  come  of  it  in  the 
future.  But  as  England  did  not  see  this  —  did  not  see  it 
then  —  she  turned  heartlessly  from  the  appeal,  and  laughed 
scornfully  at  the  warning.  There  were  philosopher  states- 
men ready  at  hand  to  argue  that  tlie  flying  thousands 
were  "  surplus  population^  This  was  the  cold-blooded 
official  way  of  expressing  it.  The  English  press,  however, 
went  more  directly  to  the  mark.  They  called  the  sorrow- 
ing cavalcade  wending  their  way  to  the  emigrant  ship,  a 
race  of  assassins,  creatures  of  superstition,  lazy,  ignorant, 
and  brutified.    Far  in  the  progress  of  this  exodus  —  even 


THE  STOBY  OF  Hi  EL  AND. 


long  after  some  of  its  baleful  effects  began  to  be  felt  — 
the  London  Saturday  Review  answered  in  the  following 
language  to  a  very  natural  expression  of  sympathy  and 
grief  wrung  from  an  Irish  prelate  witnessing  the  destruc- 
tion of  his  people  :  — 

"  The  Lion  of  St.  Jarlath's  surveys  with  an  envious  eye 
the  Irish  exodus,  and  sighs  over  the  departing  demons  of 
assassination  and  murder.  So  complete  is  the  rush  of  de- 
parting marauders^  whose  lives  were  profitably  occupied  in 
shooting  Protestants  from  behind  a  hedge^  that  silence  reigns 
over  the  vast  solitude  of  Ireland,''^  ^ 

Pages  might  be  filled  with  extracts  of  a  like  nature 
from  the  press  of  England ;  many  still  more  coarse  and 
brutal.  There  may,  probably,  be  some  Englishmen  who 
now  wish  such  language  had  not  been  used ;  that  such 
blistering  libels  had  not  been  rained  on  a  departing  people, 
to  nourish  in  their  hearts  the  terrible  vow  of  vengeance 
with  which  they  landed  on  American  shores.  But  then  — 
in  that  hour,  when  it  seemed  safe  to  be  brutal  and  merci- 
less —  the  grief-stricken,  thrust-out  people  — 

"  Found  not  a  generous  friend,  a  pitying  foe." 

And  so  they  went  into  banishment  in  thousands  and 
tens  of  thousands,  with  hands  uplifted  to  the  just  God 
who  saw  all  this;  and  they  cried  aloud,  Quousque  Dominef 
Quousque  ? 

An  effort  was  made  in  Ireland  to  invoke  legislative 
remedy  for  the  state  of  things  which  was  thus  depopulat- 
ing the  country.  A  parliamentary  party  was  formed  to 
obtain  some  measure  of  protection  for  the  agricultural 
population.  For  even  where  no  arrears  —  for  ''famine 
years,"  or  any  other  years  —  were  due,  even  where  the 
rent  was  paid  to  the  day,  the  landlords  stepped  in,  accord- 


1  Saturday  Bevieic,  28th  November,  1863. 


586 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND, 


ing  to  law,  swept  off  the  tenant,  and  confiscated  his  prop- 
erty. To  termmate  this  shocking  system,  to  secure  from 
such  robbery  the  property  of  the  tenant,  while  strictly 
protecting  that  of  the  landlord,  it  was  resolved  to  press 
for  an  Act  of  Parliament. 

At  vast  sacrifices  the  suffering  people,  braving  the  anger 
of  their  landlords,  returned  to  the  legislature  a  number  of 
representatives  pledged  to  their  cause.  But  the  English 
minister,  as  if  bent  on  teaching  Irishmen  to  despair  of 
redress  by  constitutional  agencies,  resisted  those  most  just 
and  equitable  demands,  and  deliberately  set  himself  to 
corrupt  and  break  up  that  party.  To  humiliate  and  ex- 
asperate the  people  more  and  more,  to  mock  them  and 
insult  them,  the  faithless  men  who  had  betrayed  them 
were  set  over  them  as  judges  and  rulers.  And  when,  by 
means  as  nefarious  as  those  that  had  carried  the  union, 
this  last  attempt  of  the  Irish  people  to  devoic  themselves 
to  peaceful  and  constitutional  action  was  baffled,  defeated, 
trampled  down,  when  the  Tenant  League  "  had  been 
broken  up,  and  its  leaders  scattered  —  w^hen  Gavan  Duffy 
had  been  driven  into  despairing  exile,  when  Lucas  had 
been  sent  broken-hearted  into  the  grave,  and  Moore,  the 
intrepid  leader,  the  unequalled  orator,  had  been  relegated 
to  private  life,  a  shout  of  victory  again  went  up  from  the 
press  of  England,  as  if  a  Trafalgar  had  been  won. 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


687 


CHAPTER  LXXXVn. 

HOW  SOME  IRISHMEN  TOOK  TO  THE  POLITICS  OF  DE- 
SPAIR." HOW  ENGLAND'S  REVOLUTIONARY  TEACH- 
INGS CAME  HOME  TO  ROOST."  HOW  GENERAL  JOHN 
O'NEILL  GAVE  COLONEL  BOOKER  A  TOUCH  OF  FONTENOY 
AT  RIDGEWAY. 

LL  may  deplore,  but  none  can  wonder,  that 
under  circumstances  such  as  those,  a  consider- 
able section  of  the  Irish  people  should  have  lent 
a  read}^  ear  to    the  politics  of  despair." 

"  In  vain  the  hero's  heart  had  bled, 
The  Sage's  voice  had  warned  in  vain." 

In  the  face  of  all  the  lessons  of  history  they  would 
conspire  anew,  and  dream  once  more  of  grappling  Eng- 
land on  the  battle-field  I 

They  were  in  the  mood  to  hearken  to  any  proposal,  no 
matter  how  wild :  to  dare  any  risk,  no  matter  how  great ; 
to  follow  any  man,  no  matter  whom  he  might  be,  promis- 
ing to  lead  them  to  vengeance.  Such  a  proposal  presented 
itself  in  the  shape  of  a  conspiracy,  an  oath-bound  secret 
society,  designated  the  Fenian  Brotherhood,"  which 
made  its  appearance  about  this  time.  The  project  was 
strenuously  reprehended  by  every  one  of  the  ''Forty- 
eight"  leaders  with  scarcely  an  exception,  and  by  the 
Catholic  clergy  universally ;  in  other  words,  by  every  pa- 
triotic influence  in  Ireland  not  reft  of  reason  by  despair. 
The  first  leaders  of  the  conspiracy  were  not  men  well 
recommended  to  Irish  confidence,  and  in  the  venomous 
manner  in  which  they  assailed  all  who  endeavoured  to  dis- 
suade the  people  from  their  plot,  they  showed  that  they 


588 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


had  not  only  copied  the  forms  but  imbibed  the  spirit  of 
the  continental  secret  societies.  But  the  maddened 
people  were  ready  to  follow  and  worship  a^it/  leader  whose 
project  gave  a  voice  to  the  terrible  passions  surging  in 
their  breasts.  They  were  ready  to  believe  in  him  in  the 
face  of  all  warning,  and  at  his  bidding  to  distrust  and 
denounce  friends  and  guides  whom,  ordinarily,  they  would 
have  followed  to  the  death. 

In  simple  truth  the  fatuous  conduct  of  England  had  so 
prepared  the  soil  and  sown  the  seed,  that  the  conspirator 
had  but  to  step  in  and  reap  the  crop.  In  1843  she  had 
answered  to  the  people  that  their  case  ivould  7iot  be  listened 
to.  To  the  peaceful  and  amicable  desire  of  Ireland  to 
reason  the  questions  at  issue,  England  answered  in  the 
well-remembered  words  of  the  Times :  Repeal  must  not 
be  argued  with.^^  If  the  Union  were  gall  it  must  be  main- 
tained'' In  other  words,  England,  unable  to  rely  on 
the  weight  of  any  other  argument,  flung  the  sword  into 
the  scale,  and  cried  out:  "  Vce  Victis!'' 

In  the  same  year  she  showed  the  Irish  people  that  loy- 
alty to  the  throne,  respect  for  the  laws,  and  reliance  ex- 
clusively on  moral  force,  did  not  avail  to  save  them  from 
violence.  When  0'  Connell  was  dragged  to  jail  as  a  con- 
spirator "  —  a  man  notoriously  the  most  loyal,  peaceable, 
and  law-respecting  in  the  land  —  the  people  unhappily 
seemed  to  conclude  that  they  might  as  well  be  real  con- 
spirators, for  any  distinction  England  would  draw  between 
Irishmen  pleading  the  just  cause  of  their  country. 

But  there  was  yet  a  further  reach  of  infatuation,  and 
apparently  England  was  resolved  to  leave  no  incitement 
unused  in  driving  the  Irish  upon  the  policy  of  violence  — 
of  hate  and  hostility  implacable. 

At  the  very  time  that  the  agents  of  the  secret  society 
were  preaching  to  the  Irish  people  the  doctrines  of  revolu- 
tion, the  English  press  resounded  with  like  teachings.  The 


TH^:  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


589 


sovereign  and  her  ministers  proclaimed  them  ;  Parliament 
reechoed  them  ;  England  with  unanimous  voice,  shouted 
them  aloud.  The  right,  nay,  the  duty  of  a  people  con- 
sidering themselves,  or  fancying  themselves,  oppressed,  to 
conspire  against  their  rulers  —  even  native  and  legiti- 
mate rulers  —  was  day  by  day  thundered  forth  by  the 
English  journals.  Yet  more  than  this.  The  most  blister- 
ing taunts  were  flung  against  peoples  who,  fancying  them- 
selves oppressed,  hoped  to  be  righted  by  any  means  save 
bj"  conspiracy,  revolt,  war,  bloodshed,  eternal  resistance 
and  hostility.  "Let  all  such  peoples  know,"  wrote  the 
Times,,  "  that  liberty  is  a  thing  to  he  fought  out  ivith  knives 
and  sivords  and  hatchets'' 

To  be  sure  these  general  propositions  were  formulated 
for  the  express  use  of  the  Italians  at  the  time.  So  utterly 
had  England's  anxiety  to  overthrow  the  papacy  blinded 
her,  that  she  never  once  recollected  that  those  incitements 
were  being  hearkened  to  by  a  hot-blooded  and  passionate 
people  like  the  Irish.  At  the  worst,  however,  she  judged 
the  Irish  to  be  too  completely  cowed  to  dream  of  applying 
them  to  their  own  case.  At  the  very  moment  when  Wil- 
liam Smith  O'Brien  was  freely  sacrificing  or  perilling  his 
popularity  in  the  endeavour  to  keep  his  countrymen 
from  the  revolutionary  secret  society,  the  Times  —  blind, 
stone-blind,  to  the  state  of  the  facts,  blinded  by  intense 
national  prejudice  —  assailed  him  truculently,  as  an  anti- 
quated traitor  who  could  not  get  one  man  —  not  even  one 
man  —  in  all  Ireland  to  share  his  ''crazy  dream"  of  na- 
tional autonomy. 

Alas  !  So  much  for  England's  ability  to  understand  the 
Irish  people  I  So  much  for  her  ignorance  of  a  country 
which  she  insists  on  ruling  I 

Up  to  18(54,  the  Fenian  enterprise  —  the  absurd  idea  of 
challenging  England  (or  rather  accepting  her  challenge) 
to  a  war-duel — strenuously  resisted  by  tlie  Catholic  clergy 


690 


THE  STOHY  OF  fnKLAXT). 


and  other  patriotic  influences,  made  comparatively  little 
headway  in  Ireland.  In  America,  almost  from  the  outset 
it  secured  large  support.  For  England  had  filled  the 
Western  Continent  with  an  Irish  population  burning  for 
vengeance  upon  the  power  that  had  hunted  them  from 
their  own  land.  On  the  termination  of  the  great  civil 
war  of  1861-1864,  a  vast  army  of  Irish  soldiers,  trained, 
disciplined,  and  experienced  —  of  valour  proven  on  many 
a  well-fought  field,  and  each  man  willing  to  cross  the  globe 
a  hundred  times  for  a  blow  at  England  — were  disen- 
gaged from  service. 

Suddenly  the  Irish  revolutionary  enterprise  assumed  in 
America  a  magnitude  that  startled  and  overwhelmed  its 
originators.  It  was  no  longer  the  desperate  following  of 
an  autocratic  chief-conspirator,  blindly  bowing  to  his  nod. 
It  grew  into  the  dimensions  of  a  great  national  confedera- 
tion with  an  army  and  a  treasury  at  its  disposal.  The  ex- 
pansion in  America  was  not  wdthout  a  corresponding  effect 
in  Ireland ;  but  it  was  after  all  nothing  proportionate. 
There  was  up  to  the  last  a  fatuous  amount  of  misunder- 
standing maintained  by  the  "  Head  Centre  "  on  this  side 
of  the  Atlantic,  James  Stephens,  a  man  of  marvellous  sub- 
tlety and  wondrous  plausibility ;  crafty,  cunning,  and  not 
always  over  scrupulous  as  to  the  employment  of  means  to 
an  end.  However,  the  army  ready  to  hand  in  America,  if 
not  utilised  at  once,  would  soon  be  melted  away  and  gone, 
like  the  snows  of  past  winters.  So  in  the  middle  of  1865 
it  was  resolved  to  take  the  field  in  the  approaching 
autumn. 

It  is  hard  to  contemplate  this  decision  or  declaration, 
without  deeming  it  either  insincere  or  wicked  on  the  part 
of  the  leader  or  leaders,  who  at  the  moment  knew  the  real 
condition  of  affairs  in  Ireland.  That  the  enrolled  mem- 
bers, howsoever  few,  would  respond  when  called  upon,  was 
certain  at  any  time  ;  for  the  Irish  are  not  cowards :  the 


THE  STORY  OF  IBELANT). 


men  who  joined  this  desperate  enterprise  were  sure  to  prove 
themselves  courageous,  if  not  either  prudent  or  wise.  But 
the  pretence  of  the  revolutionary  chief,  that  there  was  a 
force  able  to  afford  the  merest  chance  of  success,  was  too 
utterly  false  not  to  be  plainly  criminal. 

Towards  the  close  of  1865  came  almost  contemporane- 
ously the  government  swoop  on  the  Irish  revolutionary 
executive,  and  the  deposition  —  after  solemn  judicial  trial, 
as  prescribed  by  the  laws  of  the  society  —  of  O'Mahony, 
the  American  "  Head  Centre,''  for  crimes  and  offences 
alleged  to  be  worse  than  mere  imbecility,  and  the  election 
in  his  stead  of  Colonel  William  R.  Roberts,  an  Irish- Ameri- 
can merchant  of  high  standing  and  honourable  character, 
whose  fortune  had  always  generously  aided  Irish  patriotic, 
charitable,  or  religious  purposes.  The  deposed  official, 
however,  did  not  submit  to  the  application  of  the  society 
rules.  He  set  up  a  rival  association,  a  course  in  which  he 
was  supported  by  the  Irish  Head  Centre  ;  and  a  painful 
scene  of  factious  and  acrimonious  contention  between  the 
two  parties  thus  antagonized,  caused  the  English  govern- 
ment to  hope  —  nay.  for  a  moment,  fully  to  believe  —  that 
the  disappearance  of  both  must  soon  follow. 

This  hope  quickly  vanished  when,  on  reliable  intelli- 
gence, it  was  announced  that  the  Irish-Americans,  under 
the  Roberts  presidency,  were  substituting  for  the  unreal 
or  insincere  project  of  an  expedition  to  Ireland,  as  the  first 
move,  the  plainly  practicable  scheme  of  an  invasion  of 
British  North  America  in  the  first  instance.  The  Times 
at  once  declared  that  now  indeed  England  had  need  to 
buckle  on  her  armour,  for  that  the  adoption  of  this  new 
project  showed  the  men  in  America  to  be  in  earnest,  and 
to  have  sound  military  judgment  in  their  councils.  An 
invasion  of  Ireland  by  the  Irish  in  the  United  States  all 
might  laugh  at,  but  an  invasion  of  Canada  from  the  same 
quarter  was  quite  another  matter  :  the  southern  frontier 


THK  STORY  OF  inELA)^t>, 


of  British  North  America  being  one  impossible  to  defend 
in  its  entirety,  unless  by  an  army  of  one  hundred  thou- 
sand men.  Clearly  a  vulnerable  point  of  the  British  em- 
pire had  been  discovered. 

This  was  a  grievous  hardship  on  the  people  of  Canada. 
They  had  done  no  wrong  to  Ireland  or  to  the  Irish  people. 
In  Canada  Irishmen  had  found  friendly  asylum,  liberty, 
and  protection.  It  seemed,  therefore,  a  cruel  resolve  to 
visit  on  Canada  the  terrible  penalty  of  war  for  the  offences 
of  the  parent  country.  To  this  the  reply  from  the  con- 
federate Irish  in  the  States  was,  that  they  would  wage  no 
war  on  the  Canadian  people  ;  that  it  was  only  against 
British  power  their  hostility  w^ould  be  exercised  ;  and  that 
Canada  had  no  right  to  expect  enjoyment  of  all  the  ad- 
vantages, without  experiencing,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
disadvantages  of  British  connection. 

It  seemed  very  clear  that  England  stood  a  serious  chance 
of  losing  her  North  American  dependencies.  One  hope 
alone  remained.  If  the  American  government  would  but 
defend  the  frontier  on  its  own  side,  and  cut  the  invading 
parties  from  their  base  of  supplies,  the  enterprise  must 
naturally  and  inevitably  fail.  It  seemed  impossible,  how- 
ever, that  the  American  government  could  be  prevailed 
upon  thus  to  become  a  British  preventive  police.  During 
the  civil  war  the  Washington  executive,  and,  indeed,  the 
universal  sentiment  and  action  of  the  American  people, 
had  plainly  and  expressly  encouraged  the  Fenian  organi- 
zation ;  and  even  so  recently  as  the  spring  of  1866,  the 
American  government  had  sold  to  the  agents  of  Colonel 
Koberts  thousands  of  pounds'  worth  of  arms  and  muni- 
tions of  war,  with  the  clear,  though  unofficial,  knowledge 
that  they  were  intended  for  the  projected  Canadian  enter- 
prise. Nevertheless,  as  we  shall  see,  the  American  execu- 
tive had  no  qualms  about  adopting  the  outrageously 
inconsistent  course. 


rnt:  sront  oi'  ibelaxd. 


liy  the  month  of  May,  1866,  Roberts  had  established  a 
line  of  depots  along  the  Canadian  frontier,  and  in  great 
part  filled  them  with  the  arms  and.  material  of  war  sold 
to  him  by  the  Washington  government.  Towards  the  close 
of  the  month  the  various  circles  "  throughout  the  Union 
received  the  command  to  start  their  contingents  for  the 
frontier.  Never,  probably,  in  Irish  histor}^  was  a  call 
to  the  field  more  enthusiastically  obeyed.  From  every 
State  in  the  Union  there  was  a  simultaneous  movement 
northwards  of  bodies  of  Irishmen  ;  the  most  intense  excite- 
ment pervading  the  Irish  population  from  Maine  to  Texas. 
At  this  moment,  however,  the  Washington  government 
flung  off  the  mask.  A  vehement  and  bitterly-worded 
proclamation  called  for  the  instantaneous  abandonment  of 
the  Irish  projects.  A  powerful  military  force  was  marched 
to  the  northern  frontier;  United  States  gunboats  were 
posted  on  the  lakes  and  on  the  St.  Lawrence  River ;  all  the 
arms  and  war  material  of  the  Irish  were  sought  out,  seized, 
and  confiscated,  and  all  the  arriving  contingents,  on  mere 
suspicion  of  their  destination,  were  arrested. 

This  course  of  proceeding  fell  like  a  thunderbolt  on  the 
Irish !  It  seemed  impossible  to  credit  its  reality !  Despite 
all  those  obstacles,  however  —  a  British  army  on  one  shore, 
an  American  army  on  the  other,  and  hostile  cruisers,  British 
and  American,  guarding  the  waters  between  —  one  small 
battalion  of  the  Irish  under  Colonel  John  O'Neill  succeeded 
in  crossing  to  the  Canadian  side  on  the  night  of  the  31st 
of  May,  1866.  They  landed  on  British  ground  close  to 
Fort  Erie,  which  place  they  at  once  occupied,  hauling  down 
the  roj^al  ensign  of  England,  and  hoisting  over  Fort  Erie 
in  its  stead,  amidst  a  scene  of  boundless  enthusiasm  and 
joy,  the  Irish  standard  of  green  and  gold. 

The  news  that  the  Irish  were  across  the  St.  Lawrence  — 
that  once  more,  for  the  first  time  for  half  a  century,  the 
green  flag  waved  in  the  broad  sunlight  over  the  serried 


694 


THE  Sr07?r  OF  IliKLAXt). 


line^>  of  men  in  arms  for  ^-tlie  good  old  cause  "  —  .«>ent  the 
Irish  millions  in  the  States  into  wild  excitement.  In 
twenty-four  hours  fifty  tliousand  volunteers  offered  for 
service,  ready  to  march  at  an  hour's  notice.  But  the 
Washington  govennnent  stopped  all  action  on  the  part  of 
the  Irish  organiz;ni.)ii.  Colonel  Roberts,  his  military  chief 
officer,  and  other  olficials  were  arrested,  and  it  soon  be- 
came plain  the  unexpected  intervention  of  the  American 
executive  had  utterly  destroyed,  for  the  time,  the  Canadian 
project,  and  saved  to  Great  Britain  her  Xorth  American 
colonies. 

Meanwhile  O'Neill  and  his  small  force  were  in  the  ene- 
my's country  —  in  the  midst  of  their  foes.  From  all  parts 
of  Canada  troops  were  hurried  forward  by  rail  to  crush  at 
once,  by  overwhelming  force,  the  now  isolated  Irish  bat- 
talion. On  the  morning  of  the  1st  of  June,  1866,  Colonel 
Booker,  at  the  head  of  the  combined  British  force  of  regu- 
lar infantry  of  the  line  and  some  volunteer  regiments, 
marched  against  the  invaders.  At  a  place  called  Lime- 
stone Ridge,  close  by  the  village  of  Ridge  way,  the  advanced 
guard  of  the  British  found  O'Neill  drawn  up  in  a  position 
ready  for  battle.  The  action  forthwith  commenced.  The 
Irish  skirmishers  appeared  to  fall  back  slowly  before  their 
assailants,  a  circumstance  which  caused  the  Canadian  vol- 
unteer regiments  to  conclude  hastily  that  the. day  was  go- 
ing very  easily  in  their  favour.  Suddenly,  however,  the 
Irish  skirmishers  halted,  and  the  British,  to  their  dismay, 
found  themselves  face  to  face  with  the  main  force  of  the 
Irish,  posted  in  a  position  which  evidenced  consummate 
ability  on  the  part  of  O'Neill.  Booker  ordered  an  assault 
in  full  force  on  the  Irish  position,  which  was,  however, 
disastrously  repulsed.  While  the  British  commander  was 
hesitating  as  to  whether  he  should  renew  the  battle,  or 
await  reinforcements  reported  to  be  coming  up  from  Ham- 
ilton, his  deliberations  were  cut  short  by  a  shout  from  the 


IHE  STOBY  OF  IHKf.AXJh 


Irish  lines,  and  a  cry  of  alarm  from  his  own  —  the  Irish 
were  advancing  to  a  charge.  They  came  on  with  a  wild 
rush  and  a  ringing  cheer,  bursting  through  the  British 
ranks.  There  was  a  short  but  desperate  struggle,  when 
some  one  of  the  Canadian  officers,  observing  an  Irish  aide-de' 
camp  galloping  through  a  wood  close  by,  thought  it  was  a 
body  of  Irish  horse,  and  raised  the  cry  of  "  Cavalry !  cav- 
alrj'  I"  Some  of  the  regular  regiments  made  a  vain  effort 
to  form  a  square  —  a  fatal  blunder,  there  being  no  cavalry 
at  hand ;  others,  however,  broke  into  confusion,  and  took 
to  flight,  the  general,  Booker,  it  is  alleged,  being  the  fleet- 
est of  the  fugitives.  The  British  rout  soon  became  com- 
plete, the  day  was  hopelessly  lost,  and  the  victorious  Irish, 
with  the  captured  British  standards  in  the^'  hands,  stood 
on  Ridgeway  heights  as  proudly  as  their  compeers  at  Fon- 
tenoy.      The  field  was  fought  and  won." 


CHAPTER  LXXXVIII. 

THE  UNFINISHED  CHAPTER  OF  EIGHTEEN  HIINDRED 
AND  SIXTY-SEVEN.  HOW  IRELAND,  OFT  DOOMED  TO 
DEATH,"  HAS  SHOWN  THAT  SHE  IS  FATED  NOT  TO 
DIE.'' 

UDGED  by  the  forces  engaged,  Ridgeway  was  an 
hi  considerable  engagement.  Yet  the  effect  pro- 
duced by  the  news  in  Canada,  in  the  States,  in 
England,  and,  of  course,  most  of  all  in  Ireland, 
could  scarcely  have  been  surpassed  by  the  announcement 
of  a  second  Fontenoy.  Irish  troops  had  met  the  levies  of 
England  in  pitched  battle  and  defeated  them.  English 
colours^  trophies  of  victory,  were  in  the  hands  of  an  Irish 


596 


THE  SrOltr  OF  IBELAND. 


general.  The  green  flag  had  come  triumphant  through 
the  storm  of  battle.  At  home  and  abroad  the  Irish  saw 
only  these  facts,  and  these  appeared  to  be  all-sufficient  for 
national  pride. 

O'Neill,  on  the  morrow  of  his  victory,  learned  with 
poignant  feelings  that  his  supports  and  supplies  had  been 
all  cut  off  by  the  American  gun-boats.  In  his  front  the 
enemy  were  concentrating  in  thousands.  Behind  him 
rolled  the  St.  Lawrence,  cruised  by  United  States  war 
steamers.  He  was  ready  to  fight  the  British,  but  he  could 
not  match  the  combined  powers  of  Britain  and  America. 
He  saw  the  enterprise  was  defeated  hopelessly,  for  this 
time,  by  the  action  of  the  Washington  executive,  and, 
feeling  that  he  had  truly  done  enough  for  valour,"  he 
surrendered  to  the  United  States  naval  commander. 

This  brief  episode  at  Ridge  way  was  for  the  confederated 
Irish  the  one  gleam  to  lighten  the  page  of  their  histor}^  for 
1866.  That  page  was  otherwise  darkened  and  blotted  by 
a  record  of  humiliating  and  disgraceful  exposures  in  con- 
nection with  the  Irish  Head  Centre.  In  autumn  of  that 
year  he  proceeded  to  America,  and  finding  his  authority 
repudiated  and  his  integrity  doubted,  he  resorted  to  a 
course  which  it  would  be  difficult  to  characterise  too 
strongly.  By  way  of  attracting  a  following  to  his  own 
standard,  and  obtaining  greater  influence,  he  publicly 
announced  that  in  the  winter  months  close  at  hand,  and 
before  the  new  year  dawned,  he  would  (sealing  his  under- 
taking with  an  awful  invocation  of  the  Most  High)  be  in 
Ireland,  leading  the  long-promised  insurrection.  Had  this 
been  a  mere  "  intention  "  which  might  be  "  disappointed," 
it  was  still  manifestly  criminal  thus  to  announce  it  to  the 
British  government,  unless,  indeed,  his  resources  in  hand 
were  so  enormous  as  to  render  England's  preparations  a 
matter  of  indifference.  But  it  was  not  as  an  ''intention  " 
he  announced  it,  and  swore  to  it.    He  threatened  with 


THE  STOBY  OF  JEELAXD. 


597 


the  most  serious  personal  consequences  any  and  every  man 
soever,  who  might  dare  to  express  a  doubt  that  the  event 
would  come  oif  as  he  swore.  The  few  months  remaining 
of  the  year  flew  by ;  his  intimate  adherents  spread  the 
rumour  that  he  had  sailed  for  the  scene  of  action,  and  in 
Ireland  the  news  occasioned  almost  a  panic.  One  day, 
towards  the  close  of  December,  however,  all  New  York 
rang  with  the  exposure  that  Stephens  had  never  quitted 
for  Ireland,  but  was  hiding  from  his  own  enraged  followers 
in  Brooklyn.  The  scenes  that  ensued  were  such  as  may 
well  be  omitted  from  these  pages.  In  that  bitter  hour 
thousands  of  honest,  impulsive,  and  self-sacrificing  Irish- 
men endiu'ed  the  anguish  of  discovering  that  they  had 
been  deceived  as  never  had  men  been  before  ;  that  an  idol 
worshipped  with  frenzied  devotion  was,  after  all,  a  thing 
of  clay. 

There  was  great  rejoicing  by  the  government  party  in 
Ireland  over  this  exposure  of  Stephens's  failure.  Xow,  at 
least,  it  was  hoped,  nay,  confidently  assumed,  there  would 
be  an  end  of  the  revolutionary  enterprise ! 

And  now,  assuredly,  there  would  have  been  an  end  of 
it,  had  Irish  disaffection  been  a  growth  of  yesterday ;  or 
had  the  unhappy  war  between  England  and  the  Irish  race 
been  merely  a  passing  contention,  a  momentary  flash  of 
excitement.  But  it  was  not  so ;  and  these  very  exposures 
and  scandals  and  recriminations  seemed  only  fated  to  try 
in  the  fiery  ordeal  the  strength,  depth,  and  intensity  of 
that  disaffection. 

In  Ireland,  where  Stephens  had  been  most  implicitly 
believed  in,  the  news  of  this  collapse  —  which  reached  there 
early  in  1867  —  filled  the  circles  with  keen  humiliation. 
The  more  dispassionate  wisely  rejoiced  that  he  had  not 
attempted  to  keep  a  promise,  the  making  of  wliich  was  in 
itself  a  crime  ;  but  the  desire  to  wipe  out  the  reproach 
supposed  to  be  cast  on  the  whole  enrolment  by  his  public 


598 


THE  ^TOHY  OF  lUELAXJj. 


defection  became  so  overpoweiing,  that  a  rising  was  ar- 
ranged to  come  off  simultaneously  all  over  Ireland  on  the 
5th  of  March,  1867. 

Of  all  the  insensate  attempts  at  revolution  recorded  in 
history,  this  one  assuredly  was  preeminent.  The  most 
extravagant  of  the  ancient  Fenian  tale^  supplies  nothing 
more  absurd.  The  inmates  of  a  lunatic  asylum  could 
scarcely  have  produced  a  more  impossible  scheme.  The 
one  redeeming  feature  in  the  whole  proceeding  was  the 
conduct  of  the  hapless  men  who  engaged  in  it.  Firstly, 
their  courage  in  responding  to  such  a  summons  at  all,  un- 
armed and  unaided  as  they  were.  Secondly,  their  intense 
religious  feeling.  On  the  days  immediately  preceding 
the  5th  of  March,  the  Catholic  churches  were  crowded  by 
the  youth  of  the  countrj',  making  spiritual  preparations 
for  what  they  believed  would  be  a  struggle  in  which  many 
would  fall  and  few  survive.  Thirdly,  their  noble  huilian- 
ity  to  the  prisoners  whom  they  captured,  their  scrupu- 
lous regard  for  private  property,  and  their  earnest  anxiety 
to  carry  on  their  struggle  without  infraction  in  aught  of 
the  laws  and  rules  of  honourable  warfare. 

In  the  vicinity  of  Dublin,  and  in  Tipperary,  Cork,  and 
Limerick  counties,  attacks  were  made  on  the  police  stations, 
several  of  which  were  captured  by  or  surrendered  to  tlie 
insurgents.  But  a  circumstance  as  singular  as  any  re- 
corded in  history,  intervened  to  suppress  the  movement 
more  effectually  than  the  armies  and  fleets  of  England  ten 
times  told  could  do.  On  the  next  night  following  the  rising 
—  the  6th  of  March  —  there  commenced  a  snow-storm  which 
will  long  be  remembered  in  Ireland,  as  it  was  probably 
without  precedent  in  our  annals.  For  twelve  days  and 
nights,  without  intermission,  a  tempest  of  snow  and  sleet 
raged  over  the  land,  piling  snow  to  the  depth  of  yards  on 
all  the  mountains,  streets,  and  highways.  The  plan  of 
the  insurrection  evidently  had  for  its  chief  feature  desul- 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


599 


tory  warfare  in  the  mountain  districts ;  but  this  interven- 
tion of  the  elements  utterly  frustrated  the  project,  and 
saved  Ireland  from  the  horrors  of  a  protracted  struggle. 

The  last  episode  of  the  ''rising"  was  one,  the  immedi- 
ate and  remote  effects  of  which  on  public  feeling  were  of 
astonishing  magnitude,  the  capture  atid  death  of  Peter 
O'Neill  Crow^ley  in  Kilclooney  Wood,  near  Mitchelstowii. 
Crowley  was  a  man  highly  esteemed,  widely  popular,  and 
greatly  loved  in  the  neighbourhood ;  a  man  of  respectable 
position,  and  of  good  education,  and  of  character  so  pure 
and  life  so  blameless,  that  the  peasantry  revered  him  almost 
as  a  saint.  Towards  the  close  of  March,  the  government 
authorities  had  information  that  some  of  the  leaders  in  the 
late  rising  were  concealed  in  Kilclooney  Wood,  and  it  was 
surrounded  with  military,  "beating"  the  copse  fur  the 
human  game.  Suddenly  they  came  on  Crowley  and  two 
comrades,  and  a  bitter  fusillade  proclaimed  the  discover}-. 
The  fugitives  defended  themselves  bravely,  but  eventually 
Crowley  was  shot  down,  and  brought  a  corpse  into  the  neigh- 
bouring town.  Around  his  neck  (inside  his  shirt)  hung  a 
small  silver  crucifix  and  a  medal  of  the  Immaculate  Concep- 
tion. A  bullet  had  struck  the  latter,  and  dinged  it  into  a 
cup  shape.  Another  had  struck  the  crucifix.  It  turned  out 
that  the  fugitives,  during  their  concealment  in  the  wood, 
under  Crowley's  direction,  never  omitted  compliance  with 
the  customary  Lenten  devotions.  Every  night  they  knelt 
around  the  embers  of  their  watch-fire,  and  recited  aloud 
the  Rosary,  and  at  the  moment  of  their  surprise  by  the 
soldiery  they  were  at  their  morning  prayers.  All  these 
circumstances  —  Crowley's  high  character,  his  edifying 
life,  his  tragic  fate — profoundly  impressed  the  public 
mind.  While  government  was  felicitating  itself  on  the 
"final"  suppression  of  its  protean  foe,  Irish  disaffection, 
and  the  English  press  was  commencing  anew  the  old 
vaunting  story  about  how^  Ireland's  "crazy  dream"  oi' 


600 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELASD. 


nationality  had  been  dispelled  for  ever,  a  startling  change, 
a  silent  revolution,  was  being  wrought  in  the  feelings,  the 
sentiments,  the  resolutions  of  the  Irish  nation.  First  came 
compassion  and  sympathy;  then  anger  and  indignation, 
soon  changing  into  resentment  and  hostility.  The  peo- 
ple heard  their  abstention  from  the  impossible  project  of 
Fenianism  "  construed  into  an  approbation  and  sustain- 
ment  of  the  existing  rule  —  an  acceptance  of  provincial- 
ism. They  heard  the  hapless  victims  of  the  late  rising 
reviled  as  "ruflfians,"  "murderers,"  "robbers,"  "maraud- 
ers," animated  by  a  desire  for  plunder.  They  knew  the 
horrible  falseness,  the  baseness  and  cruelty  of  all  this, 
coming  as  it  did,  too,  from  the  press  of  a  nation  ready 
enough  to  hound  on  revolutionary  cut-throats  abroad, 
while  venting  such  brutality  upon  Irishmen  like  Peter 
O'Neill  Crowle3^  Ireland  could  not  stand  this,  Xo  people 
with  a  spark  of  manhood  or  of  honour  left,  could  be  silent 
or  neutral  here.  In  the  end  proposed  to  themselves  by 
those  slain  or  captured  Irishmen  —  the  desire  to  lift  their 
country  up  from  her  fallen  state,  to  staunch  her  wounds,  to 
right  her  wrongs  —  their  countrymen  all  were  at  one  with 
them ;  and  the  purity,  the  virtue  of  their  motives,  were 
warmly  recognized  by  men  who  had  been  foremost  in  rep- 
rehending the  hapless  course  by  which  they  had  immo- 
lated themselves.  For  whatever  disorders  had  arisen  from 
this  conspiracy'',  for  whatever  there  was  to  leprehend  in  it, 
the  judgment  of  the  Irish  people  held  English  policy  and 
English  acts  and  teachings  to  account.  For  who  made 
those  men  conspirators?  Who  taught  them  to  look  to 
violence?  Who  challenged  them  to  a  trial  of  force  ?  When 
they  who  had  done  these  things  now  turned  round  on  the 
victims  of  a  noble  and  generous  impulse,  ond  calumniated 
them,  assuredl}^  their  fellow-countrymen  could  not  stand 
by  unmoved.  And  the  conduct  of  ''the  men  in  the  dock 
brought  all  Ireland  to  their  side.    Never  in  any  age,  or  iji 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


601 


any  country,  did  men  bear  themselves  in  such  strait  more 
nobly  than  those  men  of  '67.  They  were  not  men  to 
blush  for.  Captured  at  hazard  by  the  government  from 
amongst  thousands,  yet  did  they  one  and  all  demean  them- 
selves with  a  dignity,  a  fortitude,  a  heroism  worthy  of — - 

The  holiest  cause  that  tongue  or  sword 
Of  mortal  ever  lost  or  gained. 

Some  of  them  were  peasants,  others  were  professional 
men,  others  were  soldiers,  many  were  artisans.  Not  a 
man  of  them  all  quailed  in  the  dock.  Not  one  of  them 
spoke  a  word,  or  did  an  act,  which  could  bring  a  blush  to 
the  cheek  of  a  Christian  patriot.  Some  of  them  —  like 
Peter  O'Neill  Crowley  —  had  lived  stainless  lives,  and  met 
their  fate  with  the  spirit  of  the  first  Christian  martyrs. 
Their  last  words  were  of  God  and  Ireland.  Their  every 
thought  and  utterance  seemed  an  inspiration  of  virtue,  of 
patriotism,  or  of  religion.  As  man  after  man  of  them 
was  brought  to  his  doom,  and  met  it  with  bravery,  the 
heart  of  Ireland  swelled  and  throbbed  with  a  force  un- 
known for  long  years. 

Meanwhile  an  almost  permanent  court-martial  was  sit- 
ting in. Dublin  for  the  trial  of  soldiers  charged,  some  with 
sedition,  others  simply  with  the  utterance  of  patriotic  sen- 
timents ;  and  scenes  which  might  be  deemed  incredible  in 
years  to  come,  had  they  not  public  witnesses  and  public 
record  in  the  press,  were  filling  to  the  brim  the  cup  of 
public  horror  and  indignation.  The  shrieks  of  Irish  soldiers 
given  over  to  the  knout,  resounded  almost  daily.  Blood- 
clots  from  the  lash  sprinkled  the  barrack  yards  all  over. 
Many  of  the  Irishmen  thus  sentenced  walked  to  the  tri- 
angle, stripped  themselves  for  the  torture,  bore  it  without 
a  groan,  and,  when  all  was  finished  —  while  their  comrades 
were  turning  away  sickened  and  fainting  —  cheered  anew 
for  ''poor  Irelanch'"  or  repeated  the  '^seditious"  aspiratign 
for  which  they  had  just  suffered  ! 


602 


THE  STORY  OF  lUELAXD. 


Amidst  audi  scenes,  under  such  circumstances,  a  mo- 
mentous transformation  took  place  in  Ireland.  In  the  fires 
of  such  affliction  the  whole  nation  became  fused.  All 
minor  political  distinctions  seemed  to  crumble  or  fade 
away,  all  past  contentions  seemed  forgotten,  and  only  two 
great  parties  seemed  to  exist  in  the  Island,  those  w^ho  loved 
the  regime  of  the  blood-clotted  lash,  the  penal  chain  and 
the  gibbet,  and  those  who  hated  it.  Out  of  the  ashes  of 
Fenianism,"  out  of  the  shattered  debris  of  that  insane 
and  hopeless  enterprise,  arose  a  gigantic  power;  and  1867 
beheld  Irish  nationality  more  of  a  visible  and  potential 
reality  than  it  had  been  for  centuries. 

Here  abruptly  pauses  the  History  of  Ireland ;  not  ended, 
because  Ireland  is  not  dead  yet''  Like  that  faith  to  which 
she  has  clung  through  ages  of  persecution,  it  may  be  said 
of  her  that,  though  oft  doomed  to  death,"  she  is  fated 
not  to  die.'' 

Victory  must  be  with  her.  Already  it  is  with  her. 
Other  nations  have  bowed  to  the  yoke  of  conquest,  and 
been  wiped  out  from  history.  Other  peoples  have  given 
up  the  faith  of  their  fathers  at  the  bidding  of  the  sword. 
Other  races  have  sold  the  glories  of  their  past  and  the 
hopes  of  their  future  for  a  mess  of  pottage  ;  as  if  there 
A^'as  nothing  nobler  in  man's  destiny  tliaji  to  feed  and  sleep 
and  die.  But  Ireland,  after  centuries  of  suffering  and 
sacrifice  such  as  have  tried  no  other  nation  in  the  world, 
has  successfully,  proudly,  gloriously,  defended  and  retained 
lie^r  life,  her  faith,  her  nationality.  Well  may  her  children, 
proclaiming  aloud  that  there  is  a  God  in  Israel,''  look 
forward  to  a  serene  and  happy  future,  beyond  the  tearful 
clouds  of  this  troubled  present.  Assuredly  a  people  who 
have  survived  so  much,  resisted  so  much,  retained  so  much, 
are  destined  to  receive  the  rich  reward  of  such  devotion, 
such  constancy,  such  heroism. 


5^ \nr 


THE 


STORY  OF  IRELAND 

FROM  THH 

FENIAN  INSURRECTION 

TO  THE 

EXECUTION   OF  O'DONNELL. 


BV 

P.  D.   NUN  AN. 


BOSTON  : 

MURPHY    A  N  n    M  c  C  A  R  T  H  Y. 


Copyrighted 

By  murphy  &  McCarthy, 
1884. 


ELECTRCmTED  AND  PRINTED 
BY  RAND,  AVERY,  AND  COMPANY, 

BOSTON,  MASS. 


TBK  i<T02{)r  OF  lUELANl), 


606 


CHAPTER  LXXXIX. 

THE  FENlAiS^    KlSING    AND    WHAT   FOLLOWED    IT.  THE 
SURPRISE  *'  OF  CHESTER  CASTLE.     THE  "  JACKNELL  " 
EXPEDITION.     THE  MANCHESTER  RESCUE. 

EVENTEEN  years  have  sped  swiftly  by  since  the 
author  of  the  foregoing  chapter,  with  the  instinct 
of  a  deep  thinker  and  student  of  political  history, 
predicted  for  that  land,  to  which  he  has  proved 
his  deep  devotion,  a  glorious  future  and  a  deliverance  froro 
the  long  night  of  bondage.  That  hope  is  not  yet  realized ; 
the  goal  is  not  reached  yet ;  it  is  still  the  night  ;  but  our 
eyes  are  turned  toward  the  East  —  a  little  wliile  and  the 
day  of  freedom  shall  have  dawned  upon  Erin. 

Before  narrating  the  more  important  events  that  have 
occurred  in  Ireland  within  the  period  indicated,  or  speak- 
ing of  that  wave  of  agitation  founded  on  constitutional 
lines,  as  laid  down  by  the  Liberator,  which  has  passed  over 
the  land  quite  recently,  it  will  be  well,  perhaps,  to  give  a 
short  resume  of  those  incidents  of  the  rising  of  '67  that 
have  not  been  recorded  in  the  last  chapter. 

The  12th  of  February  had  been  the  day  originally  fixed 
for  a  simultaneous  rising  throughout  the  country  by  the 
council  of  delegates  in  Dublin.  As  the  time  approached, 
however,  it  was  decided  to  postpone  the  movement  until 
the  5th  of  March.  The  Fenian  circles  in  Lancashire, 
England,  had  decided  to  cooperate  with  the  Dublin  move- 
ment on  the  day  originally  fixed,  and  their  project  was 
unquestionably  a  most  daring  one,  being  nothing  less  than 
the  surprise  of  Chester  Castle,  which  was  known  to  con- 
tain many  thousand  stand  of  arms,  with  ammunition  and 
military  equipments ;  and  which,  moreover,  had  only  a 


()0H  THt^  sloUy  f>F  tBKlAKij. 

small  garrison.  It  was  resolved  on  by  the  Fenian  military 
council  in  Liverpool,  to  attack  the  castle,  seize  all  the 
arms  therein,  and  next,  to  attach  the  railway  rolling-stock, 
load  the  same  with  men  and  arms,  and  run  the  trains  to 
Holyhead.  At  the  latter  place,  all  steamers  in  port  were  to 
be  seized  and  converted  into  a  transport  fleet,  which  was 
to  be  headed  immediately  for  Dublin  Bay  !  The  audacity 
of  this  enterprise  has  scarcely  a  parallel  in  military  history ; 
save  it  be  that  brief  and  unfortunate  campaign  that  culmi- 
nated in  Ballingarry ;  yet,  astounding  as  it  may  appear,  it  is 
conceded  that  its  success,  so  far  as  regards  the  seizure  of 
Chester  Castle,  might  have  been  effected,  were  it  not  for  the 
treachery  of  John  Joseph  Corydon,  one  of  Stephen's  lieu- 
tenants, and  deemed  to  be  one  of  the  most  reliable  men 
in  the  conspiracy.  Corydon  had  given  information  to  the 
Chief  Constable  of  Liverpool,  and,  so  utterly  incredulous 
Avere  the  authorities  at  the  intelligence,  that  considerable 
time  was  lost  before  steps  were  taken  to  thwart  the  move- 
ment, by  strengthening  the  garrison  of  the  castle.  Soon, 
however,  mounted  messengers  hurried  off  in  all  directions 
for  troops,  who  reached  the  scene  of  expected  attack  by 
special  trains  from  Birkenhead  and  other  local  points. 
The  arrival  of  these  troops,  and  the  bustle  and  stir  observ- 
able in  the  vicinity  of  the  castle,  were  not  lost  on  several 
groups  of  men  who  had  lounged  all  the  forenoon  around 
Birkenhead,  and  whose  presence — most  of  them  being 
strangers  —  was,  doubtless,  an  object  of  surprise  to  the 
inhabitants.  These  were  the  contingents  from  the  Fenian 
circles  in  Manchester,  Bolton,  etc..  who  had  come  in  by 
the  morning  trains,  and  who  now  departed  as  quickly, 
word  having  reached  them  that  their  plans  were  betrayed. 
One  party  of  them,  who  got  on  board  the  Dublin  boat 
at  Holyhead,  were  arrested  immediately  on  its  arrival  in 
North  Wall. 

The  rising  in  Ireland,  which  occurred  a  few  weeks  later, 


The  stokr  ot  niKi.AKt).  Bo? 

Was,  if  anything,  a  more  abortive  attempt  at  revolution 
than  the  episode  of  Chester  Castle :  and  its  results,  as  all 
sane  persons  could  predict,  the  reverse  of  what  its  fool- 
hardy participants  had  anticipated.  In  the  vicinity  of 
Cork,  the  more  formidable  demonstrations  took  place ; 
but  they  amounted  to  nothing  more  than  attacks  on  con- 
stabulary barracks  —  one  of  which,  Ballynokane,  was 
burned  —  and  a  skirmish  in  the  streets  of  Kilmallock. 
Two  circumstances  were  paramount  in  rendering  the 
movement  wholly  futile,  —  the  treachery  of  the  arch- 
informer-  Corydon,  and  the  tempestuous  elements.  The 
severity  of  the  weather  has  been  already  spoken  of.  The 
traveller  who  is  familiar  with  the  aspect  of  Canadian  hills, 
or  the  steppes  of  Russia,  when  the  biting  north  wind  from 
the  pole  drifts  the  cumbering  snow,  lying  deep  on  the 
highways  and  deeper  in  ravines  and  mountain  gorges,  can 
best  judge  of  the  outlook  for  revolutionary  warfare  carried 
on  in  such  a  season  on  the  hills  of  Tipperary,  or  the 
mountains  of  Kerry ;  yet  this  was  the  plan  of  the  Fenian 
military  chiefs.  Under  more  favourable  circumstances  — 
with  a  larger  force  supplied  with  arms  and  a  commissariat 
—  it  is  a  moot  question  whether  exposure  on  the  bare  hills 
of  Ireland  at  such  a  season,  would  not.  have  caused  its 
speedy  decimation,  as  surely  as  the  same  cause  effected  the 
destruction  of  Napoleon's  armj'  retreating  from  Moscow. 
While  it  must  be  admitted  that  the  Rising,  as  the  outcome 
of  the  plans  hatched  for  long  in  secret  by  the  Fenian 
brotherhood,  served  the  National  cause  in  so  far  as  prov- 
ing (if  proof  were  necessary)  the  disaffection  of  the  people 
at  large,  and  as  a  clear  and  emphatic  protest  against 
misrule,  yet  it  cannot  be  denied  that  its  immediate  conse- 
quences were,  indeed,  very  sad.  The  young  men  who  had 
taken  an  active  part  in  the  inglorious  affair,  very  quickly 
realised  the  enormity  of  conspiring  against  the  British 
crown,  when  they  found  themselves  dragged  off  to  prison 


THE  STORY  OF  J  BEL  A  XI). 


— ^  often  out  of  their  beds  at  night  —  and  there  held  to 
await  the  trial  where  Justice  seldom  lent  her  ear  to  the 
plea  of  Mercy.  Terms  of  ten,  fifteen,  and  twenty  years  of 
penal  servitude,  and  sometimes  sentence  for  life,  was  the 
reward  of  those  who  had  loved  their  country  not  wisely 
but  too  well. 

The  next  affair  in  the  order  of  time  that  followed  after 
the  Rising  has  acquired  notoriety  as  the  "  Jacknell  expedi- 
tion." The  Jacknell.  a  brigantine  of  about  250  tons' 
burden,  formerly  engaged  in  the  West  Indian  trade,  was 
chartered  by  a  party  of  patriotic  Irishmen  in  New  York, 
who  designed  to  supply  the  "men  in  the  gap  "  with  arms 
in  the  hour  of  their  struggle  —  so  grossly  had  the  Irish- 
Fenian  executive  deceived  the  American  contingents  as  to 
have  left  them  for  weeks  under  the  delusion  that  the  red 
tide  of  war  was  rolling  over  the  hills  of  Ireland !  The 
Jacknell  was  freighted  with  rifles,  bayonets,  cartridges,  and 
a  few  field  guns,  all  packed  into  wine  barrels,  sewing- 
machine  and  piano  cases  —  the  latter  serving  as  a  safe 
blind  for  ''contraband  of  war "  against  the  scrutiny  of 
custom-house  officials.  The  bill  of  lading  was  made  out 
for  the  domestic  articles  just  mentioned,  and  the  ship 
cleared  for  a  port  in  Cuba.  Her  destination,  however,  was 
not  Cuba. 

On  the  12th  of  April,  1867,  a  party  of  forty  or  fifty  men 
got  on  board  a  steamboat  at  a  wharf  in  New  York,  osten- 
sibly for  a  trip  down  the  harbor.  The  whole  party  was 
composed  of  ex-officers  and  privates  of  the  American 
army,  and  as  they  had  no  baggage  with  them,  and  pre- 
sented nothing  suspicious  in  appearance,  their  departure 
was  unnoticed.  They  reached  Sandy  Hook  in  due  time, 
and  boarded  the  Jacknell^  which  quickly  set  sail  toward 
the  West  Indies.  The  JackrielVs  destination,  however, 
was  not  the  West  Indies,  but  Ireland.  The  more  promi- 
nent amongst  the  party  v/ere  General  J.  E.  Kerrigan 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


609 


Colonel  S.  R.  Tresilian,  Colonel  John  Warren,  Colonel 
Nagle,  Lieutenant  Augustine  E.  Costello,  and  Captain 
Cavanagh.  The  Jaeknell  steered  southward  for  about 
twenty-four  hours,  then  changed  her  course  for  the  old 
land."  On  Sunday,  29th  of  April,  the  sunburst  of  Erin 
was  hoisted  to  the  main  mast,  and  hailed  with  a  salute 
from  the  three  field-pieces  carried  on  board  the  Erin's 
Hope^''  which  was  the  new  and  auspicious  name  there  and 
then  bestowed  on  the  adventurous  brigantine.  Sealed 
orders  were  then  opened,  and  commissions  assigned  to  the 
officers  and  men  of  the  expedition.  Sligo  Bay,  which  was 
their  destination,  was  reached  on  the  20th  of  May.  The 
ship  stood  in  the  offing  for  a  day  or  two,  until  boarded  by 
an  agent  of  the  Confederates.  His  account  of  the  real 
state  of  affairs  in  Ireland,  very  quickly  dispelled  the 
visions  conjured  up  in  the  minds  of  these  men  by  perusal 
of  sensational  telegrams  in  the  New  York  daily  papers. 
A  landing  in  Sligo,  they  were  informed,  was  out  of  the 
question ;  but  an  effort  should  be  made  to  land  the  arms 
and  military  stores  somewhere  on  the  southern  coast.  The 
government  had  intelligence  of  a  suspicious-looking  yessel 
hovering  on  the  western  coast.  British  gunboats  cruised 
around,  ever  on  the  alert,  and  the  Erins  Hope  had  a  hard 
time  of  it,  night  and  day,  to  escape  capture.  She  had 
been  sixty-two  days  at  sea,  and  her  stock  of  provisions  and 
water  were  running  short.  In  this  extremity,  it  was  de- 
cided to  land  the  bulk  of  the  party,  and  set  sail  for  America 
with  the  others,  who  could  be  maintained  on  the  meagre 
stock  of  provisions.  Accordingij',  a  fishing  smack  was 
hailed  off  Helvick  Head,  near  Dungarvan,  and  when  she 
came  alongside,  some  thirty  or  more  of  the  party  jumped 
on  board  and  were  rowed  to  the  shore.  Their  landing  was 
not  unobserved,  as  they  were  seen  by  a  coast  guard  look- 
out, who  promptly  notified  all  the  local  police  stations,  and 
ere  many  hours,  the  whole  Jaeknell  party  were  lodged 


610 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


within  prison  walls.  In  the  minds  of  the  government 
officials,  the  appearance  of  the  suspicious  craft  in  Sligo 
Bay  had  not,  up  to  this  time,  been  connected  with  the 
landing  of  the  party  of  strangers  at  Helvick  Head ;  but, 
as  usual,  a  traitor,  Buckley  by  name,  was  in  the  camp, 
who  "  blew  "  on  the  whole  business,  and  at  the  next  assize- 
commission  every  man  of  them  was  indicted  for  treason- 
felony.  The  Jacknell  expedition,  though  it  in  no  wise 
helped  to  attai-n  the  grand  object  in  view  by  the  Fenian 
organization,  —  to  wit,  the  overthrow  of  English  dominion 
in  Ireland,  yet  was  instrumental  in  effecting  an  important 
change  of  law  in  relation  to  Irish-born  citizens  of  America: 
that  is  to  say,  —  persons  born  in  Ireland,  and  afterward 
living  in,  and  becoming  naturalized  citizens  of,  the  United 
States.  The  issue  was  raised  at  the  trial  of  the  prisoner 
Warren,  on  the  refusal  of  the  crown  to  grant  him  a  jury 
mediatate  linguce^  and  on  his  instructing  his  counsel  there- 
upon to  waive  any  defence,  as  to  whether  tlie  ancient 
doctrine  of  perpetual  allegiance  held  good  in  law.  The 
presiding  judge  decided  in  the  affirmative,  and  Warren  and 
Costello  were  both  sentenced  —  the  former  to  fifteen,  the 
latter  to  twelve  years'  penal  servitude.  Warren  claimed 
the  protection  of  the  United  States'  Government,  which, 
though  it  had  abandoned  him  on  liis  trial,  found  it  neces- 
sary to  its  own  status,  to  assert  and  uphold  the  rights  of 
American  citizenship.  Negotiations  were  entered  into  be- 
tween the  Cabinets  of  Washington  and  London,  and 
resulted  in  an  act  being  passed  in  1870,  —  33  and  34  Vic, 
cap.  14  (known  as  the  Warren  and  Costello  act),  which 
finally  disposed  of  the  question, — making  it  legal  for  a 
British  subject  to  divest  himself  of  his  allegiance  and 
become  the  citizen  of  another  country. 

The  one  event  of  this  year  —  the  saddest,  perhaps,  of 
all  the  mishaps  that  followed  in  the  train  of  Fenianism, 
since  this  was  tragic  in  almost  every  particular  —  has  al- 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND.  611 

ready  passed  into  history  as  the  Manchester  Rescue." 
To  understand  what  led  to  this  occurrence,  and  to  the 
sacrifice  of  life  which  it  entailed,  it  is  necessary  to  explain 
that  on  the  deposition  of  James  Stephens  from  the  rank  of 
Head  Centre  of  the  Fenian  organization,  he  was  succeeded 
by  Colonel  Thomas  J.  Kelly.  It  was  Kelly  planned  and 
directed  the  rescue  of  Stephens  from  Richmond,  and  sub- 
sequently his  flight  to  France.  Some  six  months  after  the 
Tlising,  Kelly  crossed  over  to  Manchester,  to  attend  a 
council  of  centres  there.  On  the  morning  of  the  11th  of 
September,  four  men  were  observed  by  the  police  loitering 
at  the  corner  of  Oak  Street,  in  the  latter  citJ^  From  some 
observations  let  drop  by  the  former,  the  officers  were  led 
to  think  that  the  party  were  plotting  some  crime,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  arrest  them.  A  struggle  followed,  and  two  of 
the  suspects  escaped.  The  other  two  had  a  first  hearing 
before  a  magistrate,  and  were  remanded  at  the  request  of 
a  detective  who  ''suspected  "  that  they  might  be  connected 
with  Fenianism,  and  so  the  event  proved,  for  they  turned 
out  to  be  none  other  than  Colonel  Kelly,  the  Fenian 
chief,  and  Captain  Deasy,  his  assistant.  The  arrests  ex- 
cited the  local  Fenian  circles  beyond  measure,  and  the 
daring  resolve  was  taken  to  rescue  the  prisoners,  come 
what  would.  On  the  18th  of  September  the  prisoners 
were  brought  up  again  and  identified  as  Kelly  and  Deasj', 
and  were  remanded  once  more.  After  the  court  adjourned, 
the  prison  van  in  which  were  Kelly  and  Deasy  and  four 
other  prisoners  —  three  women  and  a  boy  —  drove  off  for 
Salford  jail,  distant  about  two  miles  from  Manchester. 
,  Kelly  and  Deasy  were  handcuffed  and  locked  in  separate 
compartments  of  the  van.  Twelve  policemen,  instead  of 
the  usual  number  of  three,  formed  the  guard  on  this  occa- 
sion. Sergeant  Brett  sat  inside  the  van,  five  on  the  box- 
seat,  two  on  the  step  behind,  and  four  followed  in  a  cab. 
Under  the  railway  arch,  which  spans  the  Hyde  Road  at 


012 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


Bellevue,  a  party  of  about  thirty  powerfully  built  men 
sprang  over  the  fence  and  shouted  to  the  driver  to  stop, 
which  order  not  being  obeyed,  one  of  the  party  levelled 
his  revolver  at  the  horses  and  shot  one  of  them.  Then 
the  whole  party  surrounded  the  van,  and  demanded  the 
keys.  The  police  having  no  arms  made  scarcely  any  show 
of  resistance,  but  took  to  flight.  The  rescuers  had  brought 
such  tools  as  they  deemed  necessary,  hatchets,  crowbars, 
etc.,  but  found  that  the  task  of  breaking  open  the  van  Avas 
much  slower  than  they  had  reckoned.  Very  soon  the 
police  returned,  followed  by  a  large  crowd.  Twenty  or 
more  of  the  rescuing  party  formed  a  ring  around  the  van, 
and  with  revolvers  pointed  at  the  heads  of  the  policemen, 
kept  back  both  them  and  the  crowd;  whilst  their  com- 
panions worked  might  and  main  to  force  open  the  van. 
Through  the  ventilator  over  the  door,  they  spoke  to  Brett, 
commanding  him  to  give  up  the  keys,  if  he  had  them. 
Brett  divined  what  was  occurring  on  the  outside,  though 
he  could  not  see  the  attacking  party,  and  in  order  to  ob- 
tain a  glimpse  of  them,  placed  his  eye  to  the  key-hole. 
On  the  instant  some  one  in  command  shouted  to  "  blow 
open  the  lock,"  and  immediately  a  bullet  whizzed  through 
the  aperture,  and  Brett  as  he  withdrew  (but  all  too  late) 
received  the  ball  in  his  head  and  dropped  dead  within  the 
vehicle.  One  of  the  women  screamed  out,  He's  killed." 
''Take  the  keys  from  his  pocket,  and  hand  them  out," 
was  the  mandate  given  her  from  outside.  This  was  done ; 
and  immediately  a  young  man,  William  Philip  Allen,  un- 
locked the  door  and  released  the  prisoners,  who  were  hur- 
ried away  across  the  fields  on  the  instant.  In  the  struggle 
which  ensued  between  the  police  and  crowd  on  the  one 
liand,  and  the  Fenian  party  on  the  other,  the  latter  were 
roughly  handled,  and  five  of  them  were  arrested.  Their 
names  were  William  Philip  Allen,  Edward  Condon,  Mi- 
chael Larkin,  Thomas  Maguire,  and  Michael  O'Brien. 


THE  STORY  OF  IB  ELAND, 


613 


News  of  the  rescue  and  the  shooting  of  Brett  was 
flashed  all  over  the  country  in  an  hour,  and  raised  a 
storm  of  indignation  in  the  English  public  mind  —  awoke 
every  slumbering  prejudice  of  that  hereditary  hate  of  the 
Irish  which  is,  even  to  this  hour,  a  darling  nursling  of  the 
Saxon  breast,  and  boded  not  only  the  extreme  penalty  of 
the  law  to  the  prisoners,  but  indiscriminate  vengeance  on 
the  entire  Irish  population  resident  in  and  around  the 
scene  of  the  outrage.  Hounded  on  by  a  malignant  press, 
the  English  executive  of  that  day  seems  to  have  lost  its 
head,  in  the  indecent  haste  with  which  it  ordered  a  special 
assize-commission  for  the  trial  of  the  prisoners,  and  in  the 
mode  of  conducting  the  trial  which  was  eminently  unfair, 
and  betrayed  a  clear  intent  to  satisfy  the  popular  craving 
for  a  victim  or  victims.  The  testimony  in  support  of  the 
indictment  for  Brett's  murder  was  altogether  of  a  doubt- 
ful nature,  and  hung  chiefly  on  the  evidence  of  a  repro- 
bate woman ;  but  these  men  were,  of  course,  foredoomed, 
and  the  sentence  of  death,  pronounced  on  the  five  above 
named,  could  hardly  be  a  surprise  under  the  circum- 
stances. So  inconclusive  did  the  evidence  in  the  case  of 
one  of  the  prisoners,  Maguire,  appear  to  the  reporters  pres- 
ent at  the  trial,  that  they  took  the  unusual  course  of  peti- 
tioning the  Home  office  in  his  favour ;  and  this  resulted  in 
his  being  pardoned.  Soon  after,  Condon  was  reprieved. 
This  was  a  tacit  admission  of  miscarriage  of  justice  in 
the  trial,  and  brought  the  public  mind  from  its  abnormal 
state  of  excitement  to  a  sober  second  thought  as  to  the 
guilt  or  innocence  of  the  prisoners.  It  was  expected,  up 
to  the  last,  that  following  Maguire  and  Condon,  all  the 
others  would  be  reprieved.  Many  humane  gentlemen  ex- 
erted themselves  for  this  object,  and  amongst  the  more 
distinguished  may  be  mentioned  Victor  Hugo,  who  wrote 
a  letter  on  their  behalf  to  Queen  Victoria ;  and  Buchanan, 
the  poet,  who  in  pathetic  verses  published  in  a  London 


614 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


evening  paper  pleaded  for  mercy.  But  all  pleading  was 
in  vain  —  all  hope  of  mercy- was  disappointed.  The  gov- 
ernment had  resolved  on  satisfying  the  popular  thirst  for 
blood.  And  it  did.  On  the  morning  of  23d  November, 
1867,  Allen,  Larkin,  and  O'Brien,  were  led  out  to  the 
scaffold  of  Salford  jail,  surrounded  by  military,  and  exe- 
cuted in  the  gaze  of  such  another  rabble  as  might  have 
gathered  around,  when  the  Saviour  of  the  world  stood  con-  i 
trasted  with  the  infamous  Barabbas ! 


CHAPTER  XC. 

FUNERAL  PROCESSIONS  FOR  THE  MARTYRS.  AGITATION 
FOR  AMNESTY  AND  DISESTABLISHMENT.  CLERKEN- 
WELL  AND  BALLYCOHEY. 

^^^^HE  shooting  of  Sergeant  Brett  could  not,  save 
by  overlooking  the  circumstances  of  the  occur- 
rence, or  by  perversion  of  fact,  be  construed  as 
murder.  Concurrent  testimony  has  shown  that 
there  was  no  intention  to  kill  him,  and  that  his  death  was 
accidental.  Not  so  in  the  case  of  Allen,  Larkin  and 
O'Brien :  their  execution  was  murder  pure  and  simple. 
When  the  news  of  the  Manchester  executions  reached 
Ireland,  men  gasped  for  breath  in  astonishment  that  that 
which  no  man  expected  had  come  to  pass  —  that  the  blind 
fury  of  the  English  populace  had  been  allowed  to  quench 
its  frenzy  in  blood  —  that  the  rabid  hatred  and  malicious 
instigation  of  a  calumniating  press  had  overridden  the  calm, 
unbiassed  judgment  which  should  guide  a  just  admin- 
istration, and  prompted  the  Tory  ministers  to  steel  their 
hearts  to  every  appeal  for  mercy.    A  wail  of  grief  went  up 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


615 


from  the  people ;  a  cloud  seemed  to  darken  the  land  for 
days ;  and  the  heart  of  Ireland  was  wrung  with  anguish. 
The  stain  of  deepest  degradation  attempted  to  be  set  on  the 
characters  of  the  Manchester  victims  while  living,  hy  load- 
ing them  with  irons  and  manacles  —  the  cruel  devices  of 
a  barbarous,  bygone  age  —  at  their  preliminary  trial,  and 
the  ignominy  of  denying  them  Christian  burial,  and  con- 
founding them  with  common  murderers,  added  an  addi- 
tional pang  to  the  shocking  outrage  of  their  execution. 
But  their  mother  Ireland  would  pray  for,  and  honour  the 
memory  of,  her  martyred  sons.  In  all  the  Catholic 
churches  of  the  land,  prayers  were  asked  for  their  souls, 
and  the  people  knelt,  and  prayed,  and  w^ept ;  and  when 
they  quitted  the  churches,  and  realised  in  all  its  grim  re- 
pulsiveness  the  tragedy  that  had  been  enacted,  men  knit 
their  brows  and  clenched  their  teeth,  and  the  prompting 
of  every  patriotic  heart  was  defiance  of  that  despotic 
power,  which,  through  the  persons  of  these  victims,  aimed 
a  blow  at  the  National  cause,  and  smote  the  manhood  of 
Ireland  in  the  face  —  thus  obeying  the  dictum  of  the 
"  Times  to  stamp  out "  sedition,  and  stifle  all  patriotic 
aspiration.  This  feeling  soon  grew  almost  universal,  and 
extended  even  to  men  who,  hitherto,  had  been  ultra-loyal, 
but  who  now  joined  hands  with  the  Nationalists  in  a  re- 
solve to  resent  the  insult  offered  to  the  nation  in  the  per- 
sons of  these  victims,  by  a  public  display  of  sentiment, 
which  should  at  once  approve  the  conduct  of  the  latter, 
and  do  homage  to  their  memory.  Then  was  inaugurated 
a  movement,  which  may  be  said  to  be  the  parent  of  every 
other  agitation  that  arose  in  the  country  in  recent  years 
—  a  plant  which  with  truth  can  be  said  to  have  been 
watered  by  the  blood  of  martyrs,  and  grew  to  immense 
proportions,  namely,  —  the  funeral  procession,  which  in 
every  city  of  Ireland  was  a  vast  and  imposing  public  dis- 
play of  mourning,  that  would  do  honour  to  an}^  earthly  po- 


616 


THE  STOHY  OF  IRELAND. 


tentate.  At  the  Dublin  demonstration  it  was  estimated 
sixty  thousand  persons  walked  in  the  procession,  which 
was  headed  by  Mr.  John  Martin,  and  Mr.  A.  M.  Sullivan. 
The  processions  in  Cork,  Limerick,  Killarney,  and  other 
places  were  proportionately  large. 

Then  was  witnessed  a  spectacle  rarely  seen  in  Ireland, 
or  elsewhere  before, — viz.,  a  funeral  procession  of  vast  pro- 
portions, where  all  the  sombre  paraphernalia  of  a  burial 
were  present  —  all  save  the  corpse  or  rather  corpses ;  for 
the  funeral  represented  the  burial  of  the  three  men,  and 
comprised  three  hearses  and  three  coffins,  with  attendant 
mourners.  The  "  Times "  and  other  oracles,  to  which 
the  British  ministers  had  lent  a  willing  ear  in  giving  effect 
to  the  dictum  of  "  stamping  out  "  sedition,  by  such  a  holo- 
caust as  that  of  Manchester,  now  sounded  the  note  of 
alarm  by  descrying  the  funeral  processions  as  "  seditious 
demonstrations,"  and  called  for  their  suppression.  Then 
came  a  proclamation  from  His  Excellency,"  and  next,  the 
prosecution  of  the  last-named  gentlemen  and  others.  Mr. 
A.  M.  Sullivan's  speech,  in  his  own  defence,  was  a  com- 
plete turning  of  the  tables  on  the  crown,  and  its  myrmi- 
dons, past  and  present.  It  proved  a  powerful  indictment 
of  the  law  itself,  as  framed  for,  and  administered  in,  Ire- 
land up  to  a  very  recent  period,  and  showed  tliat  "  dises- 
teem  for  the  law  "  —  for  brutal  laws  and  penal  enactments 
—  was  not  only  natural,  but  inevitable.  This  speech  and 
that  of  Mr.  John  Martin  on  the  same  occasion,  had  a  very 
marked  effect  on  public  opinion  ;  and,  taken  in  connection 
with  the  sad  occurrences  which  had  caused  their  being 
uttered  —  the  Manchester  executions  and  the  funeral  pro- 
cessions—  led  many  men,  whose  hostility  to  Fenianism 
hitherto  was  well  known,  to  change  their  views  altogether, 
and  join  hands  with  the  Nationalists.  This  newly  awak- 
ened sympathy  with  those  who  had  recently  suffered  mar- 
tyrdom for  their  country,  extended  itself  to  those  poor 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


617 


political  prisoners  whose  hard  fate  was  to  toil  unrequited 
in  the  convict  gangs  at  Portland  and  Chatham.  The  mo- 
ment for  an  appeal  to  the  Government  to  pardon  these  men 
seemed  opportune,  as  there  had  been  a  change  of  adminis- 
tration, and  Gladstone,  whose  sympathies  were  supposed 
to  be  more  Christian  than  his  predecessors,  was  at  the 
head  of  the  Cabinet  —  and  so  there  was  started  under 
direction  of  the  Central  Amnesty  Committee  in  Dublin, 
a  new  agitation  having  this  philanthropic  object  in  view. 
The  first  great  Amnesty  meeting  was  held  in  the  Ro- 
tunda, Dublin,  on  the  evening  of  January  24th,  1869,  at 
which  the  Lord-Mayor  presided. 

Letters  from  nearly  all  the  Catholic  bishops,  and  many 
prominent  persons  unable  to  attend  were  read,  expressing 
entire  sympathy  with  the  movement.  The  first  resolution 
was  entrusted  to  a  distinguished  man  and  true  patriot  — 
Isaac  Butt.  At  the  mention  of  this  name,  and  that  of  two 
others,  snatched  since  then  by  the  unsparing  hand  of 
death  from  Ireland  and  her  cause  — George  Henry  Moore 
and  John  Francis  Maguire  —  few  true  Irishmen  can  ver 
press  a  sigh  of  regret  for  their  loss.  Mr.  Butt  had  won 
his  way  to  distinction,  and  was  the  acknowledged  leader 
of  the  Irish  Bar;  but  won  higher  esteem  as  a  convert  to 
the  National  cause.  He  had  sat  for  some  years  in  the 
House  of  Commons,  elected  in  the  conservative  interest 
for  the  borough  of  Youghal,  and  his  political  creed,  for  a 
period  of  his  life,  was  directly  opposed  to  Nationalistic 
views.  When  the  political  prosecutions  were  commenced, 
the  Government  following  out  its  traditional  j)olicy,  threw 
out  its  bait  to  enlist  the  services  of  Mr.  Butt  on  its  side, 
while  at  the  same  time  the  prisoners  bid  for  his  advocacy 
in  their  defence.  The  magnanimity  of  the  man  was  shown 
in  the  readiness  with  which  he  espoused  the  weaker  side, 
and  in  the  fact  that  he  gratuitously  defended  several  of 
them  who  were  too  poor  to  pay  the  usual  counsel  fees. 


618 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


Then  the  shining  abilities  of  Isaac  Butt  were  given  full 
scope  in  the  legal  arena,  and  were  successful  in  mitigating 
the  full  measurie  of  punishment  which  would  otherwise 
have  been  the  lot  of  many  prisoners ;  and,  notably,  in  one 
case  saved  a  man's  neck  from  the  rope.  This  was  the  case 
of  Robert  Kelly,  who  shot  Head  Constable  Talbot  in  the 
streets  of  Dublin.  The  latter  lingered  for  some  houn^ 
with  a  ball  in  his  spine,  and  at  a  council  of  doctors,  some 
were  for  extracting  the  bullet,  and  others  w^ere  opposed 
to  the  operation.  The  former  had  their  way,  and  the 
patient  died.  By  a  clever  piece  of  legal  jugglery,  Mr. 
Butt  threw  the  onus  of  blame  on  the  doctors,  and  saved 
the  life  of  the  prisoner,  who  was  sentenced  to  a  period 
of  imprisonment. 

Such  was  the  man  who  stood  up  to  move  the  first  reso- 
lution, and  whose  sympathies  were  altogether  with  those 
poor  fellows  for  whom  he  had  fought  many  a  legal  battle. 
The  resolution  ran  thus :  — 

"  Resolved^  That  it  is  the  persuasion  of  this  meeting  that  the  grant 
of  a  general  amnesty  to  all  persons  convicted  of  political  offences, 
would  be  most  grateful  to  the  feelings  of  the  people  of  the  Irish 
Nation." 

Mr.  Butt  spoke  up  to  the  resolution,  with  all  the  energy 
and  impressiveness  which  characterised  his  orator3\  The 
popular  demand  for  amnesty,  which  hourly  increased,  ho 
pronounced  an  indorsement  and  ratification  of  the  priuci- 
ples  for  which  the  prisoners  suffered,  and  a  strong  protest 
against  English  misrule.  The  resolution  was  carried  with 
acclamation,  and  other  resolutions,  pledging  the  meeting 
to  incessant  agitation  until  the  desired  boon  was  granted, 
were  adopted.  It  has  been  estimated  that  there  were  then 
in  prison  eighty-one  civilians  charged  with  treason-felony ; 
of  whom  forty -two  liad  been  transported  to  Western  Aus- 
tralia, while  the  remainder  were  divided  between  Chat- 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND, 


619 


ham,  Portland,  Pentoiiville,  and  other  English  prisons. 
Besides  these,  there  were  several  military  convicts,  and 
persons  charged  with  murder.  Towards  the  end  of  Feb- 
ruary, 1869,  the  first  concession  was  made,  and  it  was 
then  announced  that  forty-nine  prisoners  were  to  be  par- 
doned —  thirty -four  of  those  in  Australia,  and  fifteen  who 
were  confined  in  England.  This  partial  amnesty  could 
not  be  expected  to  satisfy  the  popular  demand ;  and  so . 
the  agitation  for  a  general  amnesty  was  renewed,  early 
the  following  summer,  by  open-air  meetings,  held  near  all 
the  important  towns  and  cities,  and  which,  in  some  places 
—  such  as  Cabra  —  assumed  vast  proportions.  At  the  lat- 
ter place,  George  Henry  Moore  and  Isaac  Butt  addressed 
the  assembled  thousands,  and  at  every  meeting  held  to 
further  this  movement,  there  were  not  wanting  men  of 
distinction  and  ability  to  urge  the  popular  demand.  Yet 
it  was  not  until  December,  1870,  that  the  Government 
announced  its  intention  of  pardoning  all  the  non-military 
treason-felonj^  convicts.  The  condition  imposed  was  to 
leave  the  United  Kingdom,  and  not  return  until  the  term 
of  their  several  sentences  had  expired ;  and  agreeable  to 
this  stipulation,  thirty-seven  prisoners  were  set  at  liberty. 
Six  of  the  convict  soldiers  at  Swan  River,  Western  Aus- 
tralia, were  rescued  from  there  in  April,  1876,  chiefly 
through  the  exertions  of  Mr.  John  J.  Breslin,  and  by 
means  of  funds  supplied  by  an  Irish-American  Society. 
The  few  remaining  prisoners  were  released  at  intervals  on 
tickets-of-leave  or  otherwise. 

Side  by  side  with  the  amnesty  agitation,  another  great 
movement  —  in  which  the  future  Prime  Minister  of  Eng- 
land was  the  prime  mover  —  was  in  progress,  viz.,  the  Dis- 
establishment of  the  Irish  Church.  This  institution  — 
this  "upas  tree"  as  Gladstone  described  it,  if  it  at  any  time 
had  exhaled  poison  on  the  social  atmosphere,  was,  at  least, 
no  longer  formidable.    Its  existence,  or  dissolution,  was 


620 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


no  longer  the  burning  question  of  the  hour,  though  as  a 
standing  mark  of  conquest  —  as  the  stronghold  of  the  "As- 
cendency" party  —  its  existence  in  a  Catholic  land,  was 
wholly  anomalous,  and  its  position  untenable  on  any  rea- 
sonable grounds.  This  had  been  shown  long  previously 
by  several  writers,  foremost  among  whom  may  be  men- 
tioned Mr.  W.  J.  O'Neill  Daunt  of  Kilcascan  Castle, 
County  Cork,  and  Sir  John  Gray,  M.  P.,  for  Kilkenny, 
and  proprietor  of  the  Dublin  "  Freeman's  Journal."  Mr. 
Daunt  had  for  a  considerable  time  corresponded  with  Mr. 
Carvell  Williams,  Secretary  of  the  Liberation  Society, 
and,  in  conjunction  with  the  latter  gentleman,  aroused 
public  opinion  against  the  Irish  State  Church.  Sir  John 
Gray,  in  a  series  of  exhaustive  reports  on  the  history,  rev- 
enues, and  congregational  strength  of  the  establishment, 
entitled,  "The  Irish  Church  Commission,"  published  in 
his  own  journal,  made  out  an  unanswerable  case  against 
its  maintenance. 

The  assault  on  this  ancient  stronghold  was  initiated  by 
what  may  be  called  a  coalition  of  political  and  ecclesi- 
astical power.  The  Liberation  Society  and  that  section 
of  English  Liberals  represented  by  John  Bright,  had  for 
some  time  carried  on  private  negotiations  with  prominent 
Irish  ecclesiastics  and  politicians,  with  a  view  to  an  alli- 
ance, and  for  the  ulterior  object  of  winning  some  conces- 
sions or  effecting  some  needed  reforms  for  the  Irish  people. 
Denominational  education  had  been  for  long  the  issue 
raised  by  the  bishops  at  every  election,  and  the  securing 
of  this  concession,  they  considered  paramount.  When, 
however,  the  "  National  Association  of  Ireland,"  under 
the  auspices  of  Cardinal  Cullen,  was  founded  in  Decem- 
ber, 1864,  the  education  question  was  omitted,  and  Dis- 
establishment substituted,  as  the  primary  object  of  the 
new  agitation.  This  was  done  in  accordance  with  the 
views  of  those  English  Liberals  above  mentioned,  who 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


621 


could  not  be  of  one  mind  with  Catholics  on  the  education 
question,  and  suggested  its  postponement  till  other  reforms 
could  be  won.  The  Irish  Church  motion  moved  by  Sir 
John  Gray  on  the  10th  of  April,  1866,  found  the  Russell- 
Gladstone  ministry  more  favourable  to  it  than  hitherto ; 
but  two  months  later,  June,  1866,  this  ministry,  defeated 
and  deserted  by  the  AduUamites  "  —  a  section  of  their 
own  party  —  lost  office,  and  were  succeeded  by  a  con- 
servative administration,  facetiously  termed  the  ''Derby- 
Dizzy  "  ministry  —  that  is,  the  Tory  Cabinet  of  which  Earl 
Derby  was  the  premier,  and  Mr.  Disraeli,  the  Chancellor 
of  the  Exchequer.  During  this  administration  occurred 
all  the  troubles  detailed  in  the  last  chapter,  and  its  policy 
towards  Ireland  for  the  period  may  be  characterised  as 
one  of  callous  indifference  to  the  grievances  of  the  nation, 
and  of  cold,  unrelenting  cruelty  to  the  unfortunate  men 
who  had  offended  against  its  edicts. 

When  the  storm  of  angry  excitement  which  the  Fenian 
outbreak  and  its  concomitant  incidents  conjured  up  in 
England  had  subsided  —  when  that  gravid  object,  the  "vin- 
dication of  the  law,"  was  accomplished  —  the  better  class 
of  Englishmen  began  to  ask  themselves  whether  or  not 
the  disaffected  nation  had  any  real  grievance  which  might 
be  removed  —  any  heavy  burden  on  its  shoulders  which 
it  was  the  duty  of  the  legislature  to  lighten.  The  Lib- 
eration Society  saw  their  opportunity  in  this  growing  in- 
terest manifested  on  the  Irish  question,  and  promptly 
furnished  the  answer  by  pointing  to  the  Irish  State  Church 
as  the  true  cause  of  all  the  humiliation  and  heartburning 
that  afflicted  the  nation.  Here,  too,  the  leaders  of  the 
divided  Liberal  party  saw  a  chance  to  form  a  new  plat- 
form, where  its  scattered  contingents  might  combine  for 
a  general  onslaught  on  the  Irish  establishment. 

A  debate  which  was  continued  for  four  days  commenced 
in  the  House  of  Commons  on  the  10th  of  March,  1868,  on 


622 


THE  STOUT  OF  IRELAND. 


the  motion  of  Mr.  J.  F.  Maguire  for  a  committee  to  con- 
sider the  state  of  Ireland.  On  the  last  day  of  the  debate, 
Mr.  Gladstone  declared  that  the  time  had  come  when  the 
Irish  Church  must  be  disestablished.  On  the  23d  he  in- 
troduced his  Resolutions."  The  debate  to  go  into  com- 
mittee on  the  Resolutions  opened  on  the  30th  of  March, 
and  was  carried  by  331  to  270  votes.  The  debate  in  com- 
mittee lasted  eleven  nights,  and  on  the  1st  of  May  the 
first  resolution  was  carried  by  a  vote  of  330  to  265.  Four 
days  later  the  ministers  resigned,  but  it  was  announced 
that  they  would  retain  office  at  the  request  of  the  Queen, 
until  the  state  of  public  business  admitted  of  a  dissolu- 
tion. Parliament  was  prorogued  on  the  31st  of  July, 
1868,  and  on  the  11th  of  November  it  was  dissolved,  and 
the  ministers  "appealed  to  the  country." 

At  the  general  election  which  ensued,  the  Liberals  were 
almost  everywhere  victorious,  and  on  the  2d  of  December, 
Mr.  Disraeli  (who  had  succeeded  Lord  Derby),  surren- 
dered the  seals,  and  Mr.  Gladstone  assumed  the  reins  of 
power.  On  the  31^t  of  May,  1869,  the  Bill  for  the  Dis- 
establishment of  the  Irish  Church  (introduced  by  Mr. 
Gladstone  on  the  1st),  passed  the  third  reading,  and  on 
the  26th  of  July,  received  the  royal  assent.  Its  advan- 
tages to  Catholics  can  be  summed  up  in  a  few  words. 
It  throws  open  all  public  offices  to  them,  save  and  except 
the  lord-lieutenancy,  and  abolishes  test  oaths  hitherto  re- 
quired of  them  on  taking  office. 

The  last,  and  perhaps  most  serious  occurrence,  in  con- 
nection with  Fenianism  —  as  it  was  attended  with  heavy 
loss  of  life  and  other  fatalities  —  happened  at  this  period, 
and  is  known  as  the  "Clerkenwell  Explosion."  It  excited 
the  indignation  of  the  English  people,  and  the  reproba- 
tion of  every  right  thinking  person.  Captain  Rickard 
Burke  was  at  the  time  a  political  convict  confined  in  Clerk- 
well  Prison,  London,  and  the  design  was  formed  by  Fenian 


THE  SrORY  OF  inELANB. 


623 


sympathisers  in  the  metropolis  to  effect  his  release  by  mak- 
ing a  breach  in  the  outer  wall  of  the  prison,  by  means  of 
gunpowder,  at  an  hour  of  the  day  when  he  was  supposed 
to  be  exercising  in  the  yard  inside  of  this  wall ;  so  as  he 
might  "  bolt "  directly  after  an  aperture  had  been  effected 
by  the  explosion.  In  pursuance  of  this  plan,  a  barrel  of 
gunpowder  was  placed  against  the  wall,  on  the  13th  of 
December,  1867,  and  at  the  appointed  hour  was  exploded 
by  means  of  a  fuse.  The  effect  was  fearful :  one  hundred 
and  fifty  feet  of  the  wall  was  blown  in,  and  a  dozen  tene- 
ment houses  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street  were  laid  in 
ruins.  There  were  twelve  persons  killed,  and  more  than 
one  hundred  wounded  in  these  houses.  The  report  of  the 
explosion  was  heard  all  over  the  metropolis,  and  brought 
crowds  to  the  scene  of  the  disaster.  Utter  ignorance  of 
the  nature  and  potency  of  explosives,  in  the  minds  of  some 
man  or  men  of  the  labouring  class,  who  had  executed  this 
reckless  business,  is  assigned  as  the  true  cause  of  this 
calamity. 

One  other  event  of  this  time  also  attended  with  fatali- 
ties, has  a  special  interest,  as  it  is  said  to  have  been  the 
immediate  cause  —  the  motive  power  —  which  had  moved 
the  Gladstone  Cabinet  to  the  passing  of  the  Land  Act. 
This  tragic  affair  is  known  as  the  ''Battle  of  Ballycohej%" 
and  such  it  really  was,  on  a  small  scale.  It  arose  out  of 
the  difficulty  existing  between  a  landlord  —  William 
Scully,  and  his  tenants,  occupying  holdings  on  the  town- 
land  of  Ballycohey,  distant  about  three  miles  from  the 
town  of  Tipperary.  It  well  illustrates  the  arbitrary  power 
possessed  by  landlords  at  this  period,  and  the  capricious 
methods  in  which  these  petty  despots  exercised  it.  The 
property  in  question  was  formerly  owned  by  an  old  Catho- 
lic famil}'  of  the  same  name,  but  of  better  principles  than 
the  present  owner.  It  came  into  his  possession  not  by 
descent,  but  by  purchase.    William  Scully  owned  other 


624 


THE  STOliY  OF  IRELAND. 


property  in  the  country,  and  a  vast  estate  in  the  State  of 
Illinois,  America.  He  was  known  to  be  an  avaricious  man ; 
exacting  in  his  demands,  and  unsparing  where  his  edicts 
were  not  complied  with ;  and  so  the  sequel  will  go  to 
prove.  His  fame  had  preceded  him,  and  the  people  of 
Bally cohey  had  gloomy  apprehensions  that  his  advent 
boded  them  no  good.  The  character  of  the  Bally  cohey 
tenantry  has  been  described  as  peaceful,  industrious,  and 
prompt  to  pay  their  rents ;  and  at  the  time  they  were  not 
in  arrears  for  the  same.  The  old  leases  having  expired, 
a  new  lease  was  drawn  up,  and  in  the  framing  of  this 
document,  Mr.  Scully  showed  the  perversion  of  landlord 
ingenuity  by  trammelling  his  tenants  with  conditions  ab- 
horrent to  any  honest  mind,  and  especially  distasteful  to 
the  independent  spirit  which  these  humble  but  upright  peo- 
ple endeavoured  to  preserve.  The  tenants  were  required 
to  pay  rent  quarterly ;  to  surrender  on  twenty -one  days 
notice  at  the  end  of  any  quarter ;  to  forego  all  claims  to 
their  own  crops  that  might  be  in  the  soil ;  to  pay  all  rates 
and  taxes  ;  and  always  to  have  a  half  year's  rent  paid  in 
advance.  Refusing  compliance  with  these  enactments,  they 
must  quit.  Mr.  Scully  w\as  warned  of  the  danger  of  at- 
tempting to  carry  out  this  programme,  but  in  vain.  He 
obtained  a  police  guard  to  attend  him,  and  went  forth  him- 
self armed  cap-a-pie.,  or  almost  so,  as  he  is  supposed  to 
have  worn  armour  under  his  clothing.  In  the  summer  of 
1868,  he  noticed  his  tenants  to  meet  him  personally  at 
Dobbyn's  Hotel  in  Tipperary,  and  there  to  pay  him  the  May 
rent.  Only  four  tenants  responded  —  the  others  sending 
their  rents  by  deputy.  This  riled  Mr.  Scully  considerably, 
as  the  personal  attendance  was  for  an  important  purpose,  — 
to  obtain  their  signatures  to  the  lease,  or  in  the  event  of 
refusal,  to  serve  them  with  notice  to  quit.  Mr.  Sculiy 
now  took  out  ejectment  processes,  which  require  to  be 
served  personally,  or  left  with  some  member  of  the  ten- 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


625 


ant's  household  at  the  house.  Despite  all  expostulation 
he  determined  on  "crossing  the  Rubicon,"  so  to  speak,  and 
at  the  head  of  a  small  army  of  police  and  bailiffs,  set  out 
to  serve  the  notices  on  Tuesday  the  11th  of  August.  The 
signal  that  the  invading  force  was  approaching  was  passed 
from  house  to  house,  and  every  dwelling  was  quickly 
abandoned.  Very  soon  an  angry  excited  crowd  had  sur- 
rounded the  Scully  party,  cursing  and  threatening  the 
latter  vehemently.  By  the  advice  of  the  police  officer  in 
command,  Mr.  Scully  abandoned  the  service  of  the  notices 
for  that  day,  and  retreated  ignominiously  to  his  hotel  in 
Tipperar3\  On  the  following  Friday,  Mr.  Scully  and  his 
party  set  out  again  on  the  same  mission,  and  were  equally 
unsuccessful  in  accomplishing  its  object.  The  attitude  of 
the  mob,  increased  in  number,  and  incensed  to  the  highest 
pitch,  menaced  the  life  of  Scully,  and  the  police  had 
much  difficulty  in  guarding  him  on  his  second  retreat  to- 
wards the  railway  station.  On  the  way  thither,  they  passed 
close  by  the  house  of  one  of  the  tenants,  named  John 
Dwyer,  and  Scully,  undeterred  by  his  recent  experience, 
resolved  on  renewing  the  experiment  at  this  point.  A 
farm-yard,  flanked  with  out-offices,  faced  the  by-road 
which  led  to  the  house,  and  through  this  farm-yard,  four 
of  the  part}^  viz.,  a  policeman  named  Morrow,  two  of 
Scully's  bailiffs  —  Gorman  and  Maher,  and  Scully  himself, 
approached  the  door  of  the  house,  and  entered.  Immedi- 
ately a  volley  fired  from  within  the  house,  and  also  from 
the  out-offices,  greeted  their  entrance.  Morrow  and  Gor- 
man were  shot  dead,  and  Scully  and  his  bailiff  Maher 
were  both  severel}^  wounded.  Scully,  undaunted  by  this 
bold  show  of  resistance,  and  unmindful  of  his  wounds, 
withdrew  a  few  paces,  and  fired  with  his  breech-loader,  and 
revolver  at  the  house,  and  the  police  at  the  same  time 
poured  a  volley  into  the  dwelling  and  out-oflBces ;  but  no 
response  came  fi'om  within ;  and  a  search  soon  revealed 


626 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


the  fact  that  the  occupants  had  effected  a  retreat  through 
apertures  made  in  the  roofs  of  the  houses  at  the  rear. 

The  news  of  the  dreadful  affair  at  Ballycohey  spread 
rapidly  throughout  the  Kingdom,  and  an  outcry  was  raised 
against  Scully,  not  only  in  the  Irish  but  the  English  press, 
which  furnished  the  one  needful  impulse  —  more  potent 
than  any  amount  of  argument  —  to  the  passing  of  the 
Gladstone  Land  Act  of  1870. 


CHAPTER  XCI. 

THE  HOME  RULE  MOVEMENT.    ITS  DEFECTS  AND  FAILUEE. 
''OBSTRUCTION."     A  SUCCESS.     THE  LAND  LEAGUE. 

^^^^HE  Home  Government  Association  had  its  origin 
at  a  meeting  held  at  the  Bilton  Hotel,  Dublin, 
on  the  evening  of  the  19th  of  May,  1870.  The 
meeting  was  a  private  one,  composed  of  promi- 
nent professional  and  mercantile  gentlemen  of  the  metrop- 
olis, and  may  be  said  to  have  been  made  up  of  the  most 
heterogeneous  elements,  as  it  embraced  men  of  various 
creeds  and  of  every  shade  of  political  opinion,  —  Orange- 
men, Ultramontanes,  Conservatives,  Liberals,  Repealers, 
Nationalists,  Fenian  sympathisers  and  sturdy  Loyalists. 
The  one  object,  which  for  the  first  time,  perhaps,  in  the 
history  of  Ireland,  effected,  at  least,  a  temporary  truce  be- 
tween men  of  divergent  views  and  conflicting  opinions,  was 
the  consideration  of  the  condition  of  their  commoi]  coun- 
try, with  a  view  to  the  amelioration  of  the  present  state 
of  things  therein. 

The  following  names  with  the  religious  persuasion  and 
political  creed  of  each  person  indicated,  will  exemiDlify 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND, 


627 


the  mixed  character  of  this  meeting  :  —  the  Rt.  Hon.  Ed- 
ward Purdon,  Lord  Mayor  of  Dublin  (Protestant  and 
Conservative),  the  ex-Lord  Mayor,  Sir  John  Barrington 
(Protestant  and  Conservative),  Sir  William  Wilde  (Prot- 
estant and  Conservative,  father  of  the  poet,  Oscar  Wilde), 
Reverend  Joseph  Galbraith,  F.T.C.D.  (Protestant  and 
Conservative),  Isaac  Butt,  Q.C.  (Protestant  and  Nation- 
alist), John  Martin  (Protestant  and  Nationalist,  "  '48 
man "),  Dr.  Maunsell,  editor  of  the  "  Evening  Mail " 
(Protestant  and  Tory),  James  O'Connor,  late  of  the 

Irish  People  "  (Catholic  and  Fenian),  Venerable  Arch- 
deacon Gould  (Protestant  and  Tory),  A.  M.  Sullivan 
(Catholic  and  Nationalist),  Captain  E.  R.  King-Harman 
(Protestant  and  Conservative),  Hon.  Lawrence  Harman 
King-Harman  (Protestant  and  Conservative),  and  many 
other  leading  citizens  and  representative  men. 

The  sentiment  of  the  Protestant  section  of  the  assem- 
bly as  indicated  by  its  spokesmen  was,  that  they  could  no 
longer  view  with  equanimity  the  uncertain  state  of  things 
in  the  country,  the  insecurity  to  property,  and  the  dan- 
gers inseparable  from  periodical  revolutionary  outbreaks, 
such  as  had  disturbed  the  country  for  the  past  five  years  ; 
that  the  experiment  of  an  alien  parliament  for  Ireland 
had  been  tried  and  found  wanting ;  and  that  the  time  had 
arrived  to  demand  the  restoration  of  her  native  parliament 
to  legislate  her  domestic  affairs.  This  proposal,  however, 
was  limited  by  a  distinct  disavowal  of  any  wish  to  sever 
the  imperial  connection  and  a  profession  of  unswerving 
loyalty  to  the  English  throne. 

Such  a  declaration  coming  from  the  old  "ascendency" 
party  might  well  be  termed  a  new  departure,  and  a  won- 
derful stride  towards  the  goal  of  national  aspiration ;  and, 
uttered  thirty  years  previously,  and  joined  by  so  powerful 
an  ally,  O'Connell  might  have  carried  Repeal.  The  ob- 
jects of  the  Repeal  movement  and  those  aimed  at  by 


628 


THE  STOBY  OP  IHELAJSft), 


the  speakers  at  the  Bilton  Hotel  meeting  had,  however, 
some  pomts  of  difference.  The  popular  idea  of  Repeal 
in  O'Coniiell's  time  was  the  restoration  of  the  national 
parliament,  and  the  old  order  of  things  as  existing  before 
the  Act  of  Union  in  1800,  although  O'Connell,  for  a  wise 
motive,  doubtless,  never  defined  in  detail  the  Repeal  pro- 
gramme ;  not  so  the  new  organization  ;  as  will  be  seen 
from  a  perusal  of  the  resolutions  drawn  up  by  a  commit- 
tee appointed  at  the  meeting  held  at  the  Bilton  Hotel. 
They  were  as  follows :  — 

1.  This  Association  is  formed  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining  for  Ire- 
land the  right  of  self-government,  by  means  of  a  National  parliament. 

2.  It  is  hereby  declared  as  the  essential  principle  of  this  Associa- 
tion, that  the  objects,  and  the  only  objects,  contemplated  by  its  organi- 
zation are  — 

To  obtain  for  om-  country  the  right  and  privilege  of  managing  our 
own  affairs,  by  a  parliament  assembled  in  Ireland,  composed  of  Her 
Majesty  the  Sovereign,  and  her  successors,  and  the  Lords  and  Com- 
mons of  Ireland. 

To  secure  for  that  parliament,  under  a  federal  arrangement,  the 
right  of  legislating  for,  and  regulating  all  matters  relating  to,  the 
internal  affairs  of  Ireland,  and  control  over  Irish  resources  and  reve- 
nues ;  subject  to  the  obligation  of  contributing  our  just  proportion  of 
the  imperial  expenditures. 

To  leave  to  an  imperial  parliament  the  power  of  dealing  with  all 
questions  affecting  the  imperial  crown  and  government ;  legislation 
regarding  the  colonies  and  other  dependencies  of  the  crown  ;  and  re- 
lations of  the  United  Empire  with  foreign  states;  and  all  matters 
appertaining  to  the  defence  and  the  stability  of  the  empire  at  large. 

To  attain  such  an  adjustment  of  the  relations  between  the  two 
countries,  without  any  interference  with  the  prerogatives  of  the 
crown,  or  any  disturbance  of  the  principles  of  the  constitution. 

3.  The  Association  invites  the  co-operation  of  all  Irishmen  who  are 
willing  to  join  in  seeking  for  Ireland  a  federal  arrangement,  based 
upon  these  general  principles. 

4.  The  Association  will  endeavour  to  forward  the  object  it  has  in 
view  by  using  all  legitimate  means  of  influencing  public  sentiment, 
both  in  Ireland  and  Great  Britain  ;  by  taking  all  opportunities  of 
instructing  and  informing  public  opinion ;  and  by  seeking  to  unite 


TBE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


629 


Irishmen  of  all  creeds  and  classes  in  one  national  movement,  in  sup- 
port of  the  great  national  object  hereby  contemplated. 

5.  It  is  declared  to  be  an  essential  principle  of  the  Association, 
that,  while  every  member  is  understood  by  joining  it  to  concur  in  its 
general  object  and  plan  of  action,  no  person  so  joining  is  committed 
to  any  political  opinion,  except  the  advisability  of  seeking  for  Ireland 
the  amount  of  self-government  contemplated  in  the  objects  of  the 
Association. 

The  most  conspicuous  political  figure  at  this  meeting, 
perhaps,  was  Isaac  Butt,  who  has  been  already  mentioned 
in  connection  with  the  political  trials,  and  the  Amnesty 
Association,  of  which  he  was  now  the  president.  Mr. 
Butt  was  distinguished  for  legal  learning,  eloquence,  and 
sterling  patriotism ;  albeit  his  political  bark  had  been 
launched  on  the  waters  under  conservative  colours ;  but  the 
changes  of  the  time  had  converted  him  from  the  distorted 
dogmas  of  Tory  bigotry  to  National  principles.  His  voice 
was  all  powerful  on  this  occasion,  in  allaying  disquiet  in 
the  minds  of  many  of  his  co-religionists,  who  had  come  to 
this  meeting  full  of  doubt  and  apprehension  in  regard  to 
the  advisability  of  an  alliance  with  their  Catholic  fellow- 
countrymen  at  such  a  period.  The  Irish  Church  Disestab- 
lishment Act  had  been  but  a  short  time  passed,  and  this 
"levelling  up"  of  the  Catholics,  was  naturally  enough 
viewed  with  no  little  concern  by  the  Protestant  bod}^,  who, 
many  of  them,  in  their  blind  ignorance  of  the  real  state  of 
feeling  on  the  question,  conjured  up  a  vision  of  the  Catho- 
lic community  exulting  in  triumph  over  a  fallen  foe. 
Mr.  Butt's  words  to  his  co-religionists  were  re-assuring : 
"Trust  me,  we  have  all  grievously  wronged  the  Irish 
Catholics,  priests  and  laymen." 

The  Home  Rule  movement  at  the  outset  encountered 
the  opposition  of  the  Catholic  bishops,  whose  hopes  in  re- 
gard to  their  favourite  scheme  of  denominational  education 
were  considerably  encouraged  by  the  concession  — if  such 


630 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


it  can  be  called  —  of  disestablishment  of  the  Protestant 
Church,  and  who  regarded  the  promoters  of  the  new  move- 
ment as  unreasonable  in  pursuing  what  they  deemed  to  be 
a  premature  policy. 

A  bj'C-election  for  the  county  Meath,  which  occurred  in 
1871,  was  the  first  test  of  the  popular  will  in  its  pronounce- 
ment on  the  new  policy.  John  Martin,  of  '48  "  fame, 
and  a  Presbyterian,  was  the  Home  Rule  candidate  chosen 
against  the  Hon.  Mr.  Plunkett,  a  Catholic,  and  brother  of 
Lord  Fingall,  a  nobleman  warmly  esteemed  in  the  county. 
Notwithstanding  that  Mr.  Plunkett  had  the  support  of  the 
clergy,  and  the  advantage  of  family  influence,  he  suffered 
a  crushing  defeat,  Mr.  Martin  polling  double  the  number  of 
his  votes.  This  was  followed  by  a  succession  of  Home  Rule 
victories.  Mitchell-Henry  was  elected  for  Galway ;  P.  J. 
Smyth  for  Westmeath ;  Isaac  Butt,  the  Home  Rule  presi- 
dent, for  Limerick ;  and  lastly,  young  Blennerhassett,  for 
Ke^rry,  the  last,  perhaps,  the  greatest  victory  ;  as  the  land- 
lord power  of  that  county  was  most  formidable,  and  put 
forth  all  its  resources  for  the  struggle,  but  went  down  in 
the  dust. 

In  October,  1873,  the  council  of  the  Home  Rule  Asso- 
ciation decided  on  summoning  a  National  conference  to 
consider  and  debate  the  question  of  Home  Rule.  A  requi- 
sition, signed  with  the  names  of  twentj'-five  thousand 
men  of  position  and  mark,  was  circulated  throughout 
the  country.  The  conference  met  in  the  great  hall  of  tl: : 
Rotunda,  Dublin,  on  the  18th  of  November,  1873.  1. 
attendance  was  large  and  the  representation  complete,  r/ 
it  comprised  about  nine  hundred  delegates  from  all  parts 
of  the  kingdom,  made  up  of  men  of  various  religious  do 
nominations,  and  of  every  political  shade.  Mr.  William 
Shaw,  M.P.,  for  Cork  county,  j)resided.  The  conference 
lasted  four  days,  and  the  proceedings  were  conducted  in 
the  most  dignified  and  harmonious  manner. 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


631 


The  principles  of  the  Home  Government  Association 
were  fully  confirmed  by  this  National  conference,  and  the 
Association  being  then  dissolved,  a  new  organization, 

The  Irish  Home  Rule  League,"  was  established  to  con- 
trol and  direct  the  new  movement. 

In  January,  1874,  Mr.  Gladstone  dissolved  parliament 
quite  unexpectedly.  A  general  election  followed,  and 
now  the  new  organization  found  its  opportunity.  The 
effect  of  the  conference  had  been  undoubtedly  good,  as  it 
set  the  seal  of  national  approval  on  the  movement,  and 
the  electors  showed  their  faith  in  the  national  leaders,  for 
they  rallied  to  the  hustings  under  the  Home  Rule  banner, 
and  the  result  was  a  return  of  sixty  Home  Rule  members 
to  the  House  of  Commons,  under  the  leadership  of  Mr. 
Butt. 

The  party  decided  on  pursuing  the  policy  of  persistent 
agitation  in  parliament  for  moderate  concessions,  and  the 
securing  of,  at  least,  one  annual  debate  on  the  question  of 
Home  Government  for  Ireland.  It  may  be  said,  in  a 
word,  that  for  some  years,  no  concession  of  any  conse- 
quence was  obtained  from  the  Tory  ministry  in  power, 
and  no  advance  towards  the  goal  of  Home  Government 
could  be  noted. 

Meanwhile,  there  returned  an  illustrious  exile,  John 
Mitchell,  to  the  land  of  his  birth,  after  an  absence  of  six- 
teen years.  His  visit,  for  such  merely  it  was,  was  due  to 
a  cause  which  heretofore  w^ould  seem  to  be  the  last  in- 
ducement that  would  prompt  his  return.  Some  of  his 
friends  in  the  National  party  conceived  the  novel  idea  of 
administering  a  merited  rebuke  to  the  British  govern- 
ment, which  had  banished  men  of  ability  such  as  Mitchell, 
by  having  him  nominated  and  elected  to  a  seat  in  parlia- 
ment. Accordingly  he  was  nominated  for  Cork  City,  and 
also  for  Tipperary  County,  without  being  apprised  of  the 
fact.    His  well-known  scepticism  in  moral  force,  made  it 


632 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


doubtful  whether  he  would  accept  the  honour,  were  it 
tendered  liim,  and  made  the  people  uncertain  how  to  act 
under  the  circumstances,  and  to  this  cause  was  due  his 
^  defeat. 

^  His  arrival  in  Queenstown  on  the  25th  of  July,  1874, 
was  unexpected,  but  when  he  reached  Cork  a  procession 
of  ten  thousand  people  escorted  him  to  his  hotel.  Then 
he  repaired  to  Newry,  his  native  town,  where  he  sojourned 
for  a  few  months  to  recruit  his  health,  and  await  the  op- 
portunity of  being  elected  to  parliament  if  a  vacancy 
occurred.  This  did  not  happen,  however,  and  Mitchell 
returned  to  New  York  in  October.  A  few  months  later, 
February,  1875,  a  vacancy  occurred  again  for  Tipperary, 
and  John  Mitchell  was  set  up  as  the  popular  candidate. 
He  sailed  from  America  forthwith,  and  landed  in  Ireland 
on  the  16th  of  February.  The  da}-  before,  he  had  been 
elected  without  opposition,  but  his  election,  as  every  one 
foresaw,  was  unavailing.  On  the  motion  of  Mr.  Disraeli, 
the  House  of  Commons,  by  a  large  majority,  pronounced 
him  ineligible.  John  Mitchell  survived  this,  which  was 
to  be  his  last  struggle  for  the  land  he  had  loved,  but  a 
short  while.  He  died  at  Dromolane  in  the  house  where 
he  was  born,  on  the  morning  of  March  20,  1875. 

Setting  out  on  its  career  with  the  purpose  of  agitating 
in  parliament  for  minor  reforms  beneficial  to  Ireland,  and 
an  annual  motion  in  favour  of  Home  Government,  so  as  to 
pave  the  way  to  the  accomplishment  of  the  latter,  and 
having  no  well-defined  plan  of  pursuing  its  objects  to 
their  attainment,  save  by  obsolete  methods,  it  is  not  to  be 
wondered  at,  that  the  Home  Rule  party  disappointed  the 
hopes  of  its  supporters,  and  earned  the  contempt  of  the 
British  assembly.  Mr.  Butt,  notwithstanding  his  known 
ability  and  his  undoubted  sincerity  in  the  cause  he  had 
espoused,  showed  no  originality  in  party  management. 
His  early  training  and  conservative  predilections,  inclined 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


633 


him  to  pursue  his  policy  in  a  deferential  manner,  careful 
not  to  offend  the  susceptibilities  of  English  ministers  by 
taking  a  bold  stand,  or  assuming  a  menacing  attitude  on 
behalf  of  an  oppressed  people ;  but  believing  in  the  po- 
tency of  calm,  unanswerable  argument,  and  persistent 
pleadhig  of  his  country's  cause,  he  designed  to  bring  the 
English  people  to  a  better  mind  on  the  Irish  question, 
and  to  awaken  that  mj^  thical  adjunct,  —  the  conscience  of 
the  British  ministry  !  He  must  have  overlooked  the  fact, 
that  seldom  was  even  a  brief  hearing  vouchsafed  to  an 
Irish  question,  and  the  shelving  and  procrastinating  pro- 
cess was  almost  invariably  the  fate  of  such  bills  as  were 
debated.  An  independent,  uncompromising  attitude,  and 
the  preservation  of  its  individuality  as  a  distinct  body, 
were  necessary  to  the  status  of  the  Home  Rule  party; 
but  when  division  between  its  leaders  showed  itself,  and 
defection  from  its  ranks  was  followed  by  recrimination 
and  disunion  amongst  its  members,  to  the  delight  of  the 
hostile  English  majority,  its  fate^  was  well  nigh  fore- 
doomed. An  accession  to  its  ranks,  however,  saved  it 
from  total  disruption,  in  the  person  of  Charles  Stewart 
Parnell,  who  had  been  elected  to  fill  the  vacancy  for  the 
county  Meath,  occasioned  by  the  death  of  John  Martin. 
Mr.  Parnell's  fame  is  world-wide,  and  his  character  well 
known.  His  most  salient  traits  are  courage,  coolness  of 
temper  and  clearness  of  aim ;  and  that  crowning  condi- 
tion of  success, — perseverance  in  pursuit  of  his  political 
ends,  through  all  difficulties,  and  despite  every  form  of 
opposition.  Mr.  Parnell  has  been  accredited  with  invent- 
ing the  "Obstruction"  tactics,  which  so  exasperated  the 
British  ministers  during  the  sessions  of  1877-78,  and 
drove  the  Commons  almost  to  despair  in  their  efforts  to 
shake  off  this  brake  which,  by  the  temerity  of  one  man, 
had  been  imposed  on  the  legislative  chariot  wheels.  The 
idea  of  obstruction,  however,  is  said  to  have  originated 


634 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


with  the  late  Mr.  Joseph  Ronayne,  formerly  member  for 
the  city  of  Cork  —  ''honest  Joe  Ronayne,"  as  his  col- 
leagues were  wont  to  speak  of  him.  Mr.  Ronayne's  sug- 
gestion to  the  Irish  members  was  in  these  words :  — 

"  You  will  never  get  them  to  listen  to  you  until  you 
begin  to  take  as  active  an  interest  in  English  affairs  as 
they  take  in  Irish  ones.  I  am  too  old  to  have  the  necessary 
energy  for  the  work.  Wh}^  don't  some  of  you  3"oung  fel- 
lows try  it  ?  " 

Mr.  Parnell  is  said  to  have  pondered  frequently  on 
these  words,  and  be  that  as  it  may,  he  was  the  first  to 
put  the  theory  in  practice.  This  he  did  with  good  effect 
on  the  English  Prisons  Bill,  which  he  succeeded  in  having 
amended  to  his  desires,  and  afterwards  insisted  that  the 
Irish  Prisons  Bill  which  followed,  should  be  on  the  same 
model. 

"Obstruction"  —  of  which  a  very  fair  sample  was  shown 
at  the  opening  of  the  session  of  1876 — ma}'  be  described 
as  an  availing  of  the  privileges  of  the  House  with  a  ven- 
geance —  that  is  to  say,  for  the  purpose  of  delaying^  rather 
than  of  expediting,  business.  Let  it  be  understood,  how- 
ever, that  Mr.  Parnell  and  his  confreres  had  ample  cause 
for  adopting  a  retaliatory  course  towards  the  framers  of 
the  half-past  twelve  rule,"  as  it  was  called.  This  rule 
was  evidently  made  for  the  thwarting  and  indefinite  post- 
ponement of  Irish  Bills,  and  the  fact  that  it  came  into 
use  simultaneously  with  the  appearance  of  the  Irish  mem- 
bers uuited  as  a  party,  showed  wliat  it  was  intended  for. 
It  ordered  that  no  Bill  to  which  previous  notice  of  objec- 
tion or  amendment  had  been  offered,  could  be  advanced  a 
stage  after  half-past  twelve  at  night.  Notice  of  oppo- 
sition was,  of  course,  given  to  every  Irish  measure,  while 
other  bills  were  left  unchallenged. 

At  the  commencement  of  each  session,  the  Commons 
elect  members  to  sit  on  the  various  committees  having 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


635 


duties  to  discharge  in  connection  with  the  business  of  the 
House.  Hitherto,  a  list  of  members  for  each  committee, 
taken  impartially  from  the  Liberal  and  Tovy  parties,  was 
usually  agreed  on  by  their  respective  leaders.  The  ap- 
pearance of  a  third  party — the  Home  Rulers  —  disturbed 
this  arrangement;  but  that  difficulty  was  easily  settled 
by  ignoring  them  altogether.  Now  it  occurred  to  Mr. 
Parnell  and  his  co-workers,  that  they  would  resent  this 
unfair  proceeding  by  challenging  every  name  on  the  com- 
mittees. Such  a  thing  as  taking  a  division  on  any  name 
proposed,  had  never  been  heard  of.  There  were  but  six 
Irish  members  in  the  House,  but  they  determined  to  fight 
out  the  matter  resolutely.  And  they  did.  Every  name 
was  challenged,  and  a  division  taken  on  it,  which  necessi- 
tates the  adjournment  of  both  parties  —  the  ''ayes"  and 
the  "noes" — to  the  lobbies,  there  to  be  counted  by  their 
respective  tellers,  and  a  return  to  the  House.  In  this  way 
a  whole  night  was  consumed  to  the  infinite  chagrin  and 
humiliation  of  the  British  majority,  and  the  secret  joy  of 
Parnell,  the  Leonidas  of  this  Thermopylae.  Victory  was 
with  the  faithful  band,  for  the  majoritf^  had  to  give  in, 
and  exclusion  from  committees  was  no  more  thought  of.  ' 
Mr.  Parnell,  always  and  ably  supported  by  Mr.  Biggar, 
member  for  Cavan,  Mr.  O'Donnell,  Mr.  O'Connor  Power, 
and  sometimes  others,  pursued  the  obstructive  policy 
throughout  the  parliamentary  sessions  of  1877  and  1878. 

The  obstruction  consisted  of  giving  notice  of  numerous 
amendments  to  a  bill,  which,  when  it  came  up  for  hearing, 
was  thereby  delayed  in  its  passage,  and  an  enormous 
amount  of  time  spent  in  considering  side  issues  raised  by 
the  Obstructionists;  and  which  they  claimed  their  right 
of  speaking  on.  Many  important  changes  in  the  Prison's 
Bill,  the  Mutiny  Bill  and  others,  are  due  to  the  activity 
of  the  Obstructionists.  Motions  that  the  chairman  leave 
the  chair,"  and  "the  chairman  do  report  progress"  —  all 
in  order  —  were  also  quite  frequent. 


636 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


At  the  outset  of  his  parliamentary  career,  Mr.  Parnell 

did  not  at  once  develop  his  untried  powers  as  a  speaker; 
but  made  the  Rules  and  cumbrous  procedure  of  the 
House  his  special  study :  and  his  mastery  of  these  techni- 
calities proved  most  useful  when,  after  a  while,  his  novel 
tactics  were  put  in  practice.  Mr.  Parnell  found  able  sup- 
porters of  his  methods  in  Messrs.  Biggar,  Frank  Hugh 
O'Donnell,  and  O'Connor  Power.  Mr.  Parnell  and  Mr. 
Biggar  presented  a  striking  contrast,  both  in  appearance 
and  manner.  The  former  of  tall,  slight,  erect  figure,  and 
handsome  features;  his  manner,  calm  and  collected;  an 
innate  self-control  seeming  to  subdue  any  hasty  impulse 
prompted  by  exciting  episodes  of  debate ;  his  voice  clear 
and  distinct;  and  his  diction  evincing  a  train  of  ideas 
marshalled  on  the  subject,  and  a  store  of  facts  ready  for 
the  occasion.  His  early  training  and  education  in  Eng- 
land, gave  him  the  advantage  of  knowing  *  that  a  cool, 
dignified  demeanour,  a  perfect  sangfroid^  even  under  prov- 
ocation, would  be  as  a  bag  of  wool  to  a  bullet  in  the  con- 
flict which  he  foresaw  his  policy  would  provoke.  The 
impending  onslaught  he  never  dreaded ;  it  would  strike, 
but  not  annihilate  him.  Mr.  Biggar,  in  person  and  voice, 
had  no  attractiveness  for  the  assembly  beyond  the  pal- 
pable fact  of  abundant  obtrusiveness.  In  the  eyes  of  the 
English  majority,  he  was  an  ogre,  an  Old  Man  of  the  Sea 
sitting  on  the  senatorial  Sindbad,  and  refusing  to  be  shaken 
off.  He  is  ill-shapen  through  a  personal  deformity,  and 
his  voice,  flavoured  with  the  broad  Scotch  accent  that  pre- 
vails in  the  North  of  Ireland,  had  no  music  for  the  Eng- 
lish ear.  Mr.  O'Donnell  is  reputed  to  be  a  man  of  varied 
accomplishments,  and  had  a  previous  experience  which 
eminently  qualified  him  to  enter  the  lists  as  an  Obstruc- 
tive. He  had  graduated  in  the  Queen's  College,  Galway, 
and  becoming  impressed  with  the  evils  of  the  mixed  sys- 
tem, set  himself  to  cry  it  down  on  every  occasion.  He 


TEh:  sTonr  of  Ireland. 


637 


attended  the  annual  convocation  of  the  Queen's  Colleges 
every  year,  and  denounced  the  system  publicly,  undeterred 
by  the  taunts  and  rebuffs  of  its  supporters.  To  silence 
and  squelch  this  small  but  invincible  band,  "  the  first 
assembly  of  gentlemen  in  the  world —  as  it  has  been 
miscalled  —  lost  all  self-respect  and  forfeited  their  claim 
to  good  breeding  by  the  methods  they  resorted  to.  The 
vulgar  groaning,  jeering,  and  hooting,  were  supplemented 
by  imitations  of  the  rooster  and  of  the  scream  of  the 
locomotive.  The  cry  of  obstruction  was  raised  both  with- 
in and  without  the  House.  Efforts  were  made  to  trip  up 
the  Obstructionists  by  calling  them  to  order  for  words 
they  never  uttered.  This  was  notably  the  case  when  Sir 
Stafford  Northcote  ordered  some  words  of  Mr.  Parnell  to 
be  taken  down  during  the  debate  on  the  South  African 
Confederation  Bill,  and  moved  his  suspension  which  was 
voted.  This  proved  merely  temporary,  however,  for  there 
was  nothing  in  his  speech  to  warrant  such  a  penalty  ;  and 
it  became  more  evident  every  day,  that  unpleasant  as  ob; 
struction  was  to  the  House  —  though  the  "  galled  jade 
might  wince,"  —  it  had  to  be  borne.  London  and  provin- 
cial editors  were  in  a  white-heat,  and  wrote  down  Parnell 
and  his  followers  as  incendiaries,  and  said  "something 
should  be  done,"  but  could  by  no  means  tell  what  to  do. 
To  curtail  the  privileges  of  the  House,  was  so  dangerous 
an  experiment,  that  the  Commons,  though  it  chafed  and 
foamed  in  impotent  rage,  paused  before  trying  it. 

Mr.  Parnell  and  his  supporters,  however,  went  on  their 
way  undismayed,  and  he  had  the  satisfaction  to  make 
good  his  threat  for  which  he  had  been  called  to  order  that 
''by  determined  action  they  (the  Irish  members)  would 
force  the  House  to  treat  Irish  questions  properly."  On 
the  Irish  Judicature  Bill  and  the  County  Courts  Bill,  im- 
portant amendments  were  carried  by  the  Irish  party ;  be- 
sides effecting  improvements  in  the  Local  Government 


638 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


Board,  and  having  the  Phoenix  Park  police  outrage 
thoroughly  sifted,  the  Army  Discipline  Act  and  the  Fac- 
tories Act,  also  owe  their  best  provisions  to  the  indefatig- 
able Obstructionists.  Mr.  Butt,  it  is  to  be  regretted,  was 
behind  the  time  in  failing  to  understand  tlie  tactics  of 
the  only  fighting  battalion  of  his  party,  and  committed  the 
unpardonable  blunder  of  censuring  them  publicly  in  the 
House,  which  must  ever  be  a  blot  on  his  otherwise  clear 
record.  Mr.  Butt's  death  occurred  in  1879,  and  Mr. 
Shaw,  M.P.,  for  Cork,  succeeded  him  as  Leader  of  the 
Hon:ie  Rule  party. 

A  monster-meeting  —  memorable  as  the  inauguration  of 
what  subsequentl}'  developed  into  a  gigantic  movement  — 
was  held  on  a  plain  a  few  miles  from  Claremorris,  in  the 
County  Mayo,  on  Sunday,  April  20th,  1879.  It  was  esti- 
mated that  there  were  present  from  15,000  to  20,000 
people,  and  it  included  nearly  all  the  farmers  of  the 
Counties  Mayo,  Galway,  and  Roscommon.  Five  hundred 
horsemen  wearing  green  emblems,  formed  a  conspicuous 
cavalcade  at  this  concourse.  The  land  and  rent  questions 
were  discussed  by  the  speakers,  chief  amongst  whom  were 
•  O'Connor  Power,  M.P.,  John  Ferguson,  of  Glasgow,  and 
Mr.  Landen,  Barrister,  of  Westport.  At  this  time,  it 
should  be  borne  in  mind,  three  bad  harvests  in  succession 
had  told  with  dire  effect  on  the  farmers,  and  their  distress 
was  becoming  extreme  ;  the  wolf  of  hunger  was  at  their 
doors,  and  that  sword  of  Damocles  —  the  ejectment  writ 
—  hung  over  their  heads.  At  this  meeting  some  novel 
opinions  were  expressed,  and  a  few  strong  resolutions 
taken  —  the  novel  doctrine  being  but  the  echo  of  what 
had  been  quite  recently  expounded  in  the  United  States 
by  a  very  remarkable  man  —  Michael  Dayitt,  whose 
name,  let  me  add,  will  go  down  in  history  with  that 
of  Hofer  and  Kossuth  and  William  Tell;  for  his  record  is 
a  paradigm  of  true  patriotism,  and  the  voluntary  sacrifice 


THE  STOBY  OF  IRELAND. 


639 


of  his  libert}',  in  his  country's  cause,  not  once  but  often, 
as  great,  almost,  as  that  of  the  noble  Roman  leaping'  into 
the  gulf  to  save  the  city.  It  was  at  his  instance  this  meet- 
ing was  held  ;  but  through  the  accident  of  missing  a  train, 
he  was  not  present. 

Michael  Davitt  was  a  native  of  a  spot  close  to  where 
this  meeting  was  held.  The  earliest  impression  indelibly 
stamped  on  his  memory  by  the  sorrowful  circumstances 
that  attended  it,  was  the  eviction  of  himself  and  his  family 
from  their  home.  They  emigrated  to  England,  where  in 
time  Michael  went  to  work  in  a  factory,  and,  unfortunately, 
lost  his  arm  by  an  accident.  Exile  and  lapse  of  time  did 
not  efface  the  recollection  of  that  sorrowful  scene,  where 
he  and  his  kindred  were  flung  out  on  the  roadside  ;  on  the 
contrary,  the  condiiion  of  lue  \v(  rkiiig  classes  in  England, 
which  contrasted  so  favourably  with  that  of  his  own  poor 
countrymen,  impressed  him  more  and  more  that  the  legal- 
ized oppression,  which  executed  this  wickedness  in  broad 
day,  invited  universal  execration,  and  called  to  Heaven 
for  vengeance  on  its  perpetrators.  Like  Hannibal,  but" 
mentally,  he  registered  a  vow  on  his  country's  altar,  to 
devote  his  life  and  talents  to  overturn  the  oppressive 
system,  and  crush  the  malignant  power  of  Landlordism. 

For  his  part  in  the  Fenian  conspiracy  he  was  tried  and 
sentenced  to  fifteen  years'  penal  servitude,  of  which  he 
served  eight  years.  Lnmediately  on  his  release,  he  went 
to  America,  and  as  before  mentioned,  promulgated  the 
doctrine  of  The  land  for  the  people.*'  Returning  to  Ire- 
land, he  caused  the  above-named  meeting  at  Irishtown  to 
be  convened  by  circular.  This  was  the  first  of  its  kind. 
It  was  followed  by  others  —  nearly  all  as  large  —  in  every 
part  of  the  country.  As  the  summer  advanced,  the  dis- 
tress in  the  Western  counties  increased.  Mr.  Parnell  and 
his  colleagues  repeatedly  stated  the  fact  in  the  House  of 
Commons,  and  invited  government  aid,  but  the  premier 


640 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


of  the  clay —  the  dilettante  Disraeli,  —  was  as  the  deaf  adder 
to  the  tale  of  Irish  distress.  iNIr.  Parnell  then  went  to 
Ireland,  and  entered  heartily  into  the  Land  agitation.  He 
told  the  tenant  farmers  at  a  meeting  in  Westport,  to 
"keep  a  grip  of  their  holdings,"  and  this  dictum  to  their 
credit,  they  obeyed ;  and  it  proved  the  great  distinguish- 
ing, belligerent  feature  of  this  movement ;  it  was  no 
longer  words,  but  a  brave  defence  of  their  homes  and 
little  j)roperty  against  landlord  rapacity.  In  October  the 
Land  League  was  regularly  organized  in  Dublin,  with  Mr. 
Parnell  as  President ;  Thomas  Brennan,  Secretary  ;  and 
Patrick  Egan,  Treasurer.  Michael  Davitt  and  others 
went  through  the  country  and  organized  local  Land 
League  clubs  in  all  the  towns  of  any  note,  and  ere  the 
end  of  the  year,  the  Land  League  in  strength  of  num- 
bers and  effective  force  for  a  determined  struggle,  sur- 
passed any  movement  hitherto  attempted  in  the  country. 
The  extreme  poverty  of  the  Western  farmers  excited  uni- 
versal sympathy.  Two  relief  committees,  one  under 
charge  of  the  Lady-Lieutenant,  the  Duchess  of  Marlboro, 
the  other  presided  over  by  the  Lord  Mayor,  sat  in  Dublin 
to  collect  and  distribute  relief.  Mr.  Parnell  and  Mr.  John 
Dillon,  went  on  their  memorable  mission  of  charity  to  the 
United  States  in  December,  where  a  large  sum  was  raised 
for  the  suffering  people.  "  The  New  York  Herald,"  on 
this  occasion  did  noble  work  by  opening  a  relief  fund  in 
its  columns,  which  it  headed  with  the  magnificent  sum  of ' 
'120,000.  The  "  Irish  world,"  also,  for  its  miceasing  efforts 
on  behalf  of  the  famine-stricken  people,  and  the  immense 
sums  of  money  it  was  instrumental  in  raising  at  that 
period  and  every  week  during  the  existence  of  the  Land 
League,  has  merited  the  undying  gratitude  of  the  Irish 
race.  The  United  States  Government  gave  a  war-ship  — 
the  Constitution  —  to  bring  over  the  supplies  of  provisions 
collected  in  the  States  for  the  same  charitable  object. 


THE  srOBY  OF  inKLANTf. 


641 


Towards  the  end  of  1879,  Lord  BeaeonsHeld  (Air.  Disraeli 
having  been  raised  to  the  peerage  witli  tliis  title)  and  his 
cabinet  got  onsted  from  office  by  a  combination  of  adverse 
circumstances.  In  April,  1880,  a  general  election  was 
held  and  the  Liberals  returned  to  power,  with  Mr.  Glad- 
stone at  the  helm.  The  new  ministry  attempted  to  stem 
the  torrent  of  agitation  in  Ireland,  which  had  then  reached 
high  water,  by  introducing  one  of  those  half-hearted  meas- 
ures called  the  Disturbance  Bill ;  but  that  sleepy  insti- 
tution, the  House  of  Lords,  when  it  went  up  for  their 
consideration,  saw,  perhaps,  something  in  its  provisions  to 
disturb  their  normal  somnolence,  and  vetoed  it  instantly. 
The  Land  League  may  be  said  to  have  been  in  the  zenith 
of  its  power  at  this  period.  In  membership  it  counted  by 
millions,  and  its  treasury  was  continually  replenished  by 
large  sums  transmitted  by  the  treasurer  of  the  American 
wing  of  the  organization,  the  late  Reverend  Lawrence 
Walsh,  of  Waterbury,  Conn.,  and  also  by  the  ''Irish 
World,"  of  New  York,  as  well  as  by  money  raised  in  Ire- 
land. The  numerous  open-air  meetings  held  every  week 
—  chiefly  on  Sundays  —  were  not  surpassed  in  point  of 
numbers  by  those  of  the  Repeal  or  Tithe  agitations,  and 
of  the  intelligence  and  earnestness  of  those  who  attended 
them,  daily  proof  was  afforded  b}^  the  bold,  unyielding  oppo- 
sition offered  on  almost  everj^  occasion  to  the  executive  of  ^ 
that  loving  legal  instrument,  the  ejectment  writ.  The  ad- 
vent of  the  sheriff  and  his  posse  of  "  peelers  "  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood was  heralded  hy  the  ringing  of  the  local  chapel 
bell,  and  as  at  the  whistle  of  Roderick  Dhu  all  his  clans- 
men sprang  from  the  heather,  so  in  a  twinkling  all  the 
"  boys "  —  some  of  them  of  the  mature  age  of  sixty  or 
seventy  —  and  the  dear  girls  swarmed  to  the  rescue.  And 
a  rescue  it  very  often  proved,  when  it  happened  to  be  a 
seizure  for  rent.  On  such  occasions,  usually  after  the 
seizure  had  been  effected,  the  crowd  surrounded  the  bail- 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


iffs  iiiid  police,  badgered  and  worried  tlieni,  drove  the  con- 
fiscated cow  in  one  direction,  and  the  sacrificial  pigs  in 
another,  and  crippled  the  well-meant  efforts  of  the  rent- 
raising  expedition.  It  was  at  this  period  that  tlie  gentle 
Mr.  Boycott,  came  into  public  notice,  and  earned  for  him- 
self immortality  in  the  next  edition  of  Webster's  Diction- 
ary. His  crime  was  not  an  uncommon  one  —  the  taking 
of  an  evicted  tenant's  farm  —  but  he  had  other  bad  points, 
and  his  reputation  was  altogether  unsavory.  Tlie  punish- 
ment meted  out  to  him  was  the  same  as  dealt  to  others, 
but  in  an  aggravated  form.  "  Boycotting,"  as  it  came  to 
be  called,  was  ostracism  and  worse  :  it  was  to  be  shunned 
by  one's  species,  even  as  the  rooks  take  wing  at  the  sight 
of  the  scarecrow.  At  this  time,  also,  the  English  press 
quite  alarmed  at  the  boldness  and  progress  of  the  Land 
League,  got  up  amongst  them  the  outrage  "  mill,  for  the 
manufacture  of  hideous  tales  of  midnight  barbarities  by 
Irish  peasants,  of  the  cutting  off  of  cows'  tails  and  men's 
ears ;  and  these,  in  most  cases,  were  afterward  shown  to 
have  been  cut  out  of  whole  cloth.  The  following  gen- 
tlemen were  indicted  in  October,  1880,  for  inciting  the 
tenant  farmers  to  pay  no  rent:  Messrs.  Parnell,  Dillon, 
Brennan,  Egan,  Boj^ton  and  some  others.  A  Dublin  jury 
were  manly  enough  on  this  occasion  to  do  the  right  thing 
—  they  disagreed  and  the  prosecution  was  dropped. 

Early  in  the  parliamentary  session  of  1881,  Mr.  Glad- 
stone, hounded  on  by  the  "  outrage  mill  **  wing  of  the 
press,  and  his  half  frightened  followers,  who  began  to  ap- 
preciate the  Land  League  as  a  formidable  organization, 
introduced  the  Coercion  Bill,  and  in  doing  so,  held  out  the 
promise  of  a  Land  Reform  measure  to  follow.  The  Coer- 
cion Act  was  passed,  but  not  until  it  encountered  all  the 
obstructive  tactics  of  the  Irish  party,  and  after  the  deter- 
mined resistance  offered  to  its  passage  had  been  protracted 
for  a  whole  month.    The  Coercion  Act  was  followed  by 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND, 


648 


the  enactment  of  a  set  of  stringent  rules  —  substantially  a 
Coercion  Act  also — for  the  House  of  Commons  itself. 
This  penal  code  was,  of  course,  framed  for  the  extinguish- 
ment of  the  obnoxious  party  in  the  House  —  a  muzzle  for 
the  Obstruction  dog,  and  a  clipping  of  the  wings  of  the 
Irish  oratorical  bird. 

On  the  7th  of  April,  1881,  Mr.  Gladstone  introduced  his 
Irish  Land  Bill,  which  became  law  on  the  22d  of  August 
following.  The  main  feature  of  the  Bill  was  the  establish- 
ment of  Land  courts  throughout  the  country  to  arbitrate 
between  landlords  and  tenants,  and  with  power  to  adjudi- 
cate a  scale  of  fair  rents  in  all  cases  where  lands  were  held 
by  tenants-at-will.  It  also  offered  facilities  for  the  tenant 
to  become  the  owner  of  his  holding  —  the  partial  creation 
of  a  peasant-proprietary  —  by  a  government  loan  of  a 
proportion  of  the  purchase  money  to  be  advanced  under 
certain  conditions.  Though  this  Bill  was  a  wonderful 
advance  on  Mr.  Gladstone's  first  concession  in  this  direc- 
tion in  1870,  yet  it  had  some  very  serious  defects  rendering 
it  almost  practically  useless  to  the  majority  of  tenants  who 
were  in  arrear  for  rent  —  in  many  cases  for  two  or  three 
years'  rent. 

This  condition  of  the  tenant  made  him  invalid  in  law 
and  put  him  out  of  court.  An  equally  grave  defect  of  the 
Bill,  was  the  omission  —  intentional  or  otherwise  —  to  offer 
any  opposition  to  the  eviction  crusade  which  was  daily 
devastating  the  country  and  depopulating  whole  districts. 
Taken  on  the  whole,  however,  —  granting  that  its  bene- 
ficial provisions  could  be  availed  of,  —  it  was  such  a  boon 
as  a  British  ministry  never  hitherto  dreamed  of  bestowing 
on  Ireland  ;  but  not  to  them,  save  to  the  able  and  humane 
statesman  at  the  head  of  the  cabinet,  Mr.  Gladstone,  is  the 
merit  of  this  measure  due. 

The  Land  Bill  was  won  l)y  the  Land  League.  The  goal 
they  had  sfruggled  to  reach,  lay  a  long  way  ahead  of  it, 


THE  STOnr  OF  inELAND. 


perhaps ;  but  beyond  this  point,  the  Leaguers  made  no 
perceptible  advance,  and  in  a  retrospect  of  their  long 
struggle  they  can  point  with  pride  to  this  achievement  as 
a  signal  triumph. 


CHAPTER  XCII. 

THE  VISIONS  AT  KNOCK.  THE  LAND  LEAGUE  PRO- 
CLAIMED. ARREST  OF  THE  LEADERS.  THE  "  NO 
rent"  manifesto.  the  ARREARS  ACT.  THE  PHOE- 
NIX PARK  TRAGEDY.  SHOOTING  OF  JAMES  CAREY 
AND  TRIAL  OF  O'DONNELL.     THE  NATIONAL  LEAGUE. 

HERE  is  a  remarkable  coincidence  in  the  fact 
that  a  wild,  desolate  region  of  the  remote,  un- 
flourishing  county  of  Ma3'o,  should,  in  the  same 
year,  become  the  scene  of  the  inauguration  of  a 
mighty  political  movement  that  shook  the  social  founda- 
tions to  their  centre,  namely  the  Land  League,  and  also  of 
a  supernatural  apparition  the  most  wonderful.  The  vis- 
ions at  Knock  have  a  celebrity  as  wide,  and  were  of  a 
character  as  mysterious,  as  those  of  the  Grotto  of  Lourdes, 
or  of  any  others  on  record. 

From  a  little  book  entitled  "  The  Apparition  at  Knock," 
published  at  Limerick  in  the  year  1880,  I  subjoin  a  de- 
scription of  Knock  Church  and  its  surroundings :  — 

"  We  at  length  reached  our  destination  at  Knock,  and 
recognized  the  parish  church  from  what  we  had  previously 
heard  of  it,  though  we  were  not  prepared  to  see  that  it 
is  really  the  handsome,  well-proportioned  building  it  is. 
Viewing  it  as  we  approach,  its  cruciform  shape,  and  hand- 
some, square  bell-tower,  with  corners  crocketed  and  pinna- 
cled, and  a  cross  rising  from  the  apex  of  the  roof,  displays 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAXD. 


645 


much  good  taste  in  its  architectural  features?,  not,  indeed, 
to  be  expected  in  these  remote  Mayo  hills.  The  tower  is 
sixtj'  feet  high,  and  is  furnished  with  a  full-toned,  sonorous 
bell,  which  may  be  heard  a  great  distance  as  it  calls  the 
people  to  Mass.  In  the  tower  there  is  an  aperture  inside, 
which  opens  into  the  church,  and  which  forms  a  place  for 
a  vocal  choir  with  which  the*  services  are  supplied.  The 
height  of  the  church  is  thirty  feet  to  the  top  of  the  gable, 
and  about  twenty-four  feet  wide.  The  gable  is  topped 
with  a  plain  cross  of  large  proportions.  It  was  on  the  face 
of  the  gable-w^all  the  apparition  was  seen  on  the  21st  of 
August,  1879.  The  interior  of  the  church  is  rather  bare  ; 
small  stations  of  the  cross  ;  no  benches,  except  a  few  pri- 
vate pews;  one  confessional,  and  over  the  altar  a  not  very 
well-done  painting  of  the  Crucifixion.  The  floor  is  of  cem- 
ent, but  is  now  all  cut  up  and  pitted  into  holes,  the  peo- 
ple carrying  away  the  cement,  which  renders  it  impossible 
to  keep  one's  foot  on  it.  The  altar  is  a  plain  one  —  the 
fagade  supported  by  two  plain  pillars  at  either  side  ;  and  a 
stained-glass  window  above,  which  is  inserted  in  the  gable. 
"  Gloria  in  excelsis  Deo,"  is  the  legend  over  the  altar.  A 
lamp  always  burns  before  the  tabernacle,  in  which  tli.e 
Blessed  Sacrament  is  constantly  preserved  for  the  adora- 
tion of  the  faithful.  The  writer  proceeds  to  narrate  the 
account  of  the  apparition  as  related  to  him  by  Miss  Mary 
Byrne,  and  others,  who  witnessed  it  on  the  evening  of 
August  21, 1879 :  —  As  my  visit  was  for  a  twofold  purpose, 
to  investigate  facts,  and  to  make  drawings,  etc.,  I,  in  the 
first  instance,  made  the  acquaintance  of  Miss  Mary  Byrne, 
a  highly  intelligent  and  respectable  young  lady,  the  daugh- 
ter of  the  widow  Byrne,  who,  with  her  two  brothers  and 
a  sister,  lived  together  in  a  farm-house  about  three  hun- 
dred yards  from  Knock  Church.  There  is  no  mistaking 
the  earnestness,  truthfulness,  and  sincerity  of  Miss  Mary 
Byrne  ;  and  it  is  evident  to  every  une  that  she  is  une  of 


646 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


the  last  persons  who  could  be  influenced  by  imagination, 
or  invent  a  story.  She  at  once  readily  entered  into  a  full 
account  of  the  apparition,  when  I  informed  her  of  the  na- 
ture of  my  visit  and  presented  my  credentials.  She  stated 
that  on  the  21st  of  August,  at  about  8  p.m.,  there  being 
perfect  daylight  at  the  time,  before  crossing  the  boundary 
wall  or  ditch  which  separates  the  church  meadow  from 
their  grounds,  she  saw  the  apparition  against  the  sacrist}'- 
gable — about  a  foot  distant  from  the  gable,  and  about 
a  foot  in  height  from  the  ground,  on  a  level,  in  fact, 
with  the  meadow  grass.  She  saw  three  figures  —  the 
Blessed  Virgin  in  the  middle,  St.  Joseph  to  the  left, 
St.  John  to  the  right.  To  the  right  of  St.  John  was  a 
Lamb,  recumbent,  with  the  cross  laid  over  the  shoulder. 
To  the  right  of  the  Lamb  was  what  she  described  to  be  an 
altar ;  this  was  in  the  centre  of  the  gable  and  extended  up 
to  the  window  circle  from  the  ground,  to  the  breadth  of 
seven  or  eight  feet.  She  was  petrified,  terrified,  trans- 
fixed ;  but,  taking  courage,  she  ran  to  call  her  brother, 
Dominick  Byrne,  a  young  man  of  about  twenty  years  of 
age,  as  fine  a  specimen  of  a  Milesian  as  one  could  see  in  a 
day's  walk  ;  highly  intelligent,  and  answering  rapidly  and 
clearly  every  question.  Mary  told  Dominick  to  come  and 
see  the  Blessed  Virgin.  "  Nonsense,  nonsense  !  "  said  he. 
"What  are  you  dreaming  of,  girl?"  —  ''Come,  come,"  she 
replied.  "  Come  and  see  and  judge  for  yourself.  Come 
and  see  what  you  ma}'  see,  and  believe  my  word."  He  at 
once  proceeded  to  see,  followed  by  his  mother,  sister  and 
brother.  They  passed  the  schoolhouse  wall,  and  stood  in 
utter  amazement  at  the  vision  which  thev  no  longer  dis- 
believed in.  They  were  soon  joined  by  others,  including 
another  Dominick  Byrne,  a  cattle  jobber  of  about  thirty 
years  of  age,  a  courageous  and  powerful  man.  As  they 
stood  gazing  at  the  apparitioiK  in  profound  astonishment, 
the  rain  began  to  fall  heavily,  and  the  wiiid  to  blow;  but 


THE  ^TORT  OF  IRELAND. 


647 


they  remained  where  the}'  stood,  drenched  with  the  down- 
pour, and  never  leaving  the  spot.  After  gazing  on  it  for 
some  time,  Dominick  Byrne,  the  cattle  jobber,  said,  ''let 
us  go  over  the  wall,  and  come  nearer,  and  see  what  it  is 
all  about."  —  "No,"  said  Dominick  Byrne,  Jun.,  who  is 
clerk  of  the  church,  "no,  not  till  the  priest  comes  down. 
We  shall  send  some  one  for  the  priest."  —  "  Let  us  go  in  at 
once,"  said  Byrne,  the  cattle  jobber,  "  what  can  they  or  she 
do  to  us?  Surely  no  harm;  and  if  harm,  why  w^e  sliall 
call  out.  In  the  name  of  God,  I'll  go  in ;  here's  my  hat, 
take  care  of  it."  He  then  w^ent  over  the  wall,  the  others 
followed,  gradually  approaching  nearer  to  the  gable.  As 
they  approached,  the  figures  seemed  to  recede  back,  closer 
to  the  gable.  When  they  came  within  two  yards  of  the 
apparition,  though  the  rain  continued  to  come  down  in 
torrents,  the  ground  was  perfectly  dry,  and  there  was  a 
semi-circle  around  the  gable  —  the  rain  beat  dow^n  on  the 
gable-wall  above  the  apparition,  and  stopped  when  it  came 
to  the  figures;  turning  on  either  side  it  ran  down  to  tlii^ 
ground  and  formed  a  pool  of  water,  which  was  collected 
next  morning  in  bottles  and  preserved,  by  Archdeacon 
Kavanagh,  the  parish  priest,  but  which  he  has  long  since 
distributed  to  the  faithful.  ...  To  the  right  of  the  Laml) 
was  what  seemed  to  be  an  altar ;  this  extended  from  the 
ground  to  about  a  foot  of  the  window-sill  of  the  sacristy, 
and,  like  the  figures,  it  seemed  to  rest  on  the  tops  of  the 
grass.  It  was  between  seven  and  eight  feet  wide.  The 
base  of  the  altar  had  on  it  what  seemed  to  be  a  large, 
heavy  moulding ;  and  on  the  altar  there  appeared  to  be, 
in  rows  of  three,  statuettes  of  angels  or  saints  —  Dominick 
Byrne  could  not  define  which.  Mary  Byrne  could  give  no 
description  of  the  altar,  w^hatever.  The  middle  row  of 
angels  and  saints  on  the  altar  was  more  numerous  than  the 
lowest,  and  the  uppermost  more  numerous  than  the  other 
two.    All  the  figures  seemed  to  have  a  slight  fringe  of  si  I- 


648 


THE  bTOUY  OF  IRELAND. 


very  cloud  under  them  ;  the  figure  of  St.  John  was  partially 
concealed,  from  the  knees  down,  in  the  cloud  :  the  position 
of  St.  Joseph  was  that  of  one  in  the  act  of  making  a  pro- 
found obeisance,  with  hands  joined,  and  partly  turned  to- 
wards our  Blessed  Lady.  The  figure  of  St.  Joseph  was 
clothed  in  one  garment,  perfectly  white,  the  hair  and  beard 
somewhat  gray,  the  flesh  had  a  natural  tint.  The  Blessed 
Virgin  stood  facing  those  who  saw  the  apparition ;  the  fig- 
ure was  clothed  in  resplendent  white  ;  on  her  head  was  a 
brilliant  crown  ;  her  shoulders  were  covered  with  a  short 
mantle ;  the  inner  garment  full,  flowing  ;  her  eyes  directed 
downwards,  her  hands  raised  to  the  shoulders,  the  palms 
turned  towards  each  other,  somewhat  like  a  priest's  when 
celebrating  Mass.  The  hair  fell  on  the  shoulders  and  back 
in  long  ringlets ;  the  feet  were  visible  and  covered  with  a 
sort  of  sandal.  The  figure  of  St.  John  was  turned  partly 
towards  the  altar  and  partly  towards  the  people.  In  his  left 
hand  he  held  a  large  book ;  his  eyes  turned  towards  it  as 
if  reading,  and  his  right  hand  raised  as  if  in  the  attitude  of 
preaching  or  confirming  his  words.  The  figure  of  St.  Jolm 
was  clothed  in  one  long  garment  of  white,  and  on  liis  head 
was  a  mitre  of  the  same  color.  A  brilliant  light  surround- 
ed all  the  figures,  which  light,  however,  had  not  the  eflPect 
of  illuminating  the  places  around  or  outside  the  circle  of 
the  apparition ;  brilliant  lights  were  seen  to  coruscate 
now  and  again  on  the  gable.  Dominick  Byrne,  Sen.,  after 
gazing  intently  for  some  time  at  the  apparition,  took  cour- 
age and  gradually  approached  nearer,  so  near  as  to  touch 
the  figures,  which  he  made  an  effort  to  do.  An  aged  fe- 
male in  the  group  of  those  who  saw  the  apparition,  endeav- 
oured to  kiss  the  feet  of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  but  could 
feel  no  substance.  Dominick  Byrne,  when  asked  did  he 
endeavour  to  touch  the  figures,  said  he  endeavoured,  witli 
the  open  index  and  middle  fingers  of  his  right  hand,  to 
touch  tlie  eyes  of  the  figure  of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  but  sai(I 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


649 


he  could  feel  no  substance,  though  he  covered  the  eyes  with 
tlie  tups  of  his  fingers.  After  about  two  hours  from  the 
time  the  Byrnes  first  saw  the  apparition,  a  messenger  came 
to  them  stating  that'  an  old  woman  named  Campbell,  who 
resided  near  the  church,  was  dying.  They  ran  off  to  see 
her ;  when  they  returned  to  the  church  the  whole  place 
was  in  darkness.*'  A  second  apparition  was  seen  on  the 
2d  of  January,  1880,  and  a  third  on  the  6th  of  January 
following,  the  Feast  of  the  Epipliany.  A  large  number  of 
persons  witnessed  these  later  apparitions,  including  the 
pastor.  Archdeacon  Kavanagh  and  two  members  of  the 
Royal  Irish  Constabulary.  The  fame  of  Knock  soon  spread 
throughout  the  land,  and  numbers  of  persons  afflicted  with 
bodily  ailments  and  infirmities  flocked  there.  In  many 
cases  miraculous  cures  took  place ;  and  almost  every 
afflicted  person  who  visited  the  shrine  of  Knock  obtained 
instant  relief.  The  number  of  pilgrims  steadily  increased, 
some  from  the  most  remote  places ;  and  many  have  visited 
it  from  England,  Scotland  and  the  United  States.  The 
authenticity,  both  of  the  apparitions  and  of  the  cures 
effected  at  the  Shrine  of  Knock  has  been  established  be- 
yond all  doubt ;  and  it  is  asserted,  that  a  visit  to  the 
spot,  hallowed  as  the  scene  of  a  celestial  visitation,  will 
inspire  even  a  sceptic  with  feelings  of  awe  and  reverence. 

After  the  passage  of  ;the  Land  Act  of  1881,  the  gov- 
ernment commenced  a  vigorous  persecution  of  the  Land 
League,  and  banned  it  as  an  illegal  societ}^,  giving  practi- 
cal effect  to  the  fierce  crusade  preached  against  it  in  the 
landlord  organs  and  English  press.  The  argument  thought 
least  vulnerable,  in  voting  down  a  longer  toleration  of  the 
existence  of  the  Land  League,  was,  that  its  mission  —  if 
it  ever  had  one  —  was  now  fiilfilled.  That  the  one  great 
grievance  of  Ireland  had  been  removed.  That,  in  tlie 
Land  Act,  an  inestimable  l)0()n  liad  been  conferred  on 
the  country;  and  that  it  devolved  on  the  people  to  show 


650 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


tlieir  gratitude  to  that  ministry  which  furnished  the  long- 
sought  panacea  for  their  ills,  and  watched  over  their  inter- 
ests with  paternal  solicitude.  This  reasoning  was  wrong 
in  the  premises,  for  the  Land  Act,  as  we  have  pointed  out, 
though  superior  to  anything  that  had  preceded  it,  yet 
was  a  very  imperfect  legislative  measure ;  of  no  practical 
benefit  to  the  majority  of  small  tenants,  unless  they  had 
funds  to  fight  out  their  newly-acquired  rights  in  the  Land 
courts,  and  to  support  their  starving  families  while  tlieir 
suits  were  pending.  And  here  the  Land  League  gave  am- 
ple proof  that  its  occupation  was  not  gone,  nor  its  day  of 
usefulness  ended.  It  was  the  League  furnished  the  legal 
expenses  of  the  poorer  tenants  when  they  brought  forward 
their  claims  and  grievances  in  the  Land  courts,  and  sup- 
plied them  and  their  families  with  the  necessaries  of  life 
while  the  struggle  lasted. 

The  government  ran  a-muck  in  its  raid  on  the  Land 
League,  and  grasped  the  latter  with  a  hand  of  iron.  The 
executive  of  the  Central  Land  League  Office,  in  Dublin, 
were  nearly  all  arrested;  but,  fortunately,  the  treasurer, 
Mr.  Patrick  Egan,  transferred  the  funds  and  himself  to 
Paris  in  time  to  evade  seizure.  The  police  swooped  down 
on  League  meetings  wherever  held  and  dispersed  them, 
sometimes  at  the  bayonet  point.  Editors  of  newspapers, 
and  hundreds  of  officers  and  members  of  local  Land 
League  clubs,,  throughout  the  countrjs  were  hurried  off 
to  prison  without  warning  or  trial ;  there  to  be  detained 
at  the  pleasure  of  the  Lord  Lieutenant,  during  part  or  the 
whole  term  of  the  Coercion  Act,  which  would  not  expire 
until  the  SOtli  September,  1882.  The  parliamentary  lead- 
ers did  not  escape  the  general  proscription.  Mr.  Parnell, 
John  Dillon,  Mr.  O'Kelly  and  others  were  relegated  to 
the  retirement  of  Kilmainham  ;  and  the  father  of  the  Land 
Leas^ue,  as  he  may  well  be  called,  —  Michael  Davitt,  —  on 
the  llimsy  pretext  of  liaving  broken  his  licket-of-leave 
parole,  was  hurried  off  to  Portland. 


THE  SrORY  OF  IRE  LAND. 


651 


Time  was,  when  the  brains  were  out  the  man  would  die, 
and,  on  the  strength  of  the  Shakesperian  aphorism,  per- 
haps, the  government  had  calculated  that  when  the  head 
was  cut  off,  the  Land  League  body  would  cease  to  exist. 
But  here  it  miscalculated.  The  Land  League  doctrine, 
preached  for  two  years  from  the  platform,  and  disseminated 
widely  by  the  press,  had  made  too  deep  an  impression  on 
the  popular  mind.  Every  man  now  knew  his  duty,  and 
the  work  of  the  Land  League  went  on,  though  the  sup- 
pression of  the  organization  was  carried  out.  Fortunately 
the  Land  League  had  been  recentlj'  supplemented  by  the 
Ladies'  Land  League;  and  the  society  of  brave  women 
deserve  immortal  honour  for  the  sacrifices  of  time  and  lib- 
erty —  some  of  them  also  being  imprisoned  —  they  offered 
in  the  cause;  and  the  untiring  energy  they  displayed  in 
distributing  relief,  and  discharging  all  the  duties  of  the 
male  Land  League  officials  who  had  been  arrested.  To 
tlieir  exertion^,  and  to  the  fact  that  the  League  funds 
were  safe  in  the  keeping  of  the  treasurer  in  Paris,  is  due 
that  the  struggle  was  not  relinquished  until  one  other 
notable  concession  was  gained  —  namely,  the  Arrears  Bill. 
This  Act  met  with  a  stubborn  resistance  in  the  House  of 
Lords,  intensified  by  some  occurrences  which  preceded 
it,  to  which  we  will  briefly  allude. 

The  immediate  effect  of  the  high-handed  policy  the  gov- 
ernment had  entered  on  by  wholesale  arrests  of  suspects,*' 
and  especially  by  the  imprisonment  of  Parnell  and  other 
members  of  parliament,  was  to  exasperate  the  public  mind 
to  retaliate  on  the  landlords  and  their  satraps.  Conse- 
^quently  for  a  period —  happily  brief — it  was  no  longer  the 
shadow,  but  the  substance,  of  agrarian  crime  that  stalked 
abroad :  proving  how  false  the  accusation  that  the  Land 
League  leaders  had  excited  the  people  to  deeds  of  vio- 
lence :  while  they  were,  on  the  contrary,  the  preservers  of 
peace,  and  it  was  tlit*  first  principle  of  tlieir  programmo. 


652 


THE  STORY  OF  III  EL  AX  J). 


This  fact  Mr.  Pariiell,  and  others,  had  repeatedly  urged 
on  the  government  without  effect,  but  now  the  event  veri- 
fied his  words,  for  a  state  of  things  resembling  the  White- 
boy  period  began  -to  prevail  in  the  rural  districts.  As  a 
retaliatory  measure,  and  probably  without  designing  to 
sustain  so  advanced  a  position,  Mr.  Parnell  at  this  time 
issued  the  famous  "  No  Rent "  manifesto,  which  in  its  dis- 
syllabic form,  and  bearing  the  signature  of  all  the  Land 
League  leaders,  was  readily  interpreted  by  the  people 
as  an  injunction  to  pay  no  more  rent  until  the  "sus- 
pects "  were  all  set  at  liberty.  There  supervened  on  this 
bold  stroke  of  Parnell,  a  regular  reign  of  terror.  Buck- 
shot Forster,  the  modern  Cromwell,  revelling  in  the  delight 
of  exercising  to  the  utmost  the  autocratic  powers  conferred 
on  him  by  the  Coercion  Act,  poured  his  ba3'onetted  police 
and  military  on  every  point  where  a  public  meeting  was 
announced  to  be  held  or  a  gathering  of  the  people  for  any 
purpose  was  expected ;  and  filled  the  land  with  spies,  in 
the  pay  of  the  castle.  Li  this  Coercion  campaign,  his 
satellite,  Clifford  Lloyd,  whose  jurisdiction  was  in  the 
South,  seconded  him  most  ably ;  and  between  these  wor- 
thies, the  people,  —  the  male  portion  of  them,  at  least,  — 
lived  in  mortal  fear  of  being  hurried  off  to  prison  at  any 
hour  for  a  lightly-spoken  word  or  an  innocent  act,  con- 
strued by  some  cut-throat  spy  into  a  breach  of  law. 
There  is  a  class  of  men,  however,  who  in  excited  periods 
like  this  cannot  be  awed  into  submission  by  such  methods; 
but  who  are  goaded  into  madness  by  the  tyrant's  lash, 
and  fling  defiance  in  his  teeth.  To  this  category,  doubt- 
less, belonged  the  desperate  band  of  men  known  as 
"  Moonlighters,*'  who  "  made  night  liideous,"  in  the  rural 
districts  of  Cork  and  Kerry,  at  tliis  period  by  midnight 
raids  on  the  houses  of  obnoxious  persons  and  deeds  of 
vindictive  cruelty.  The  English  premier  could  no  longei- 
shut  his  eyes  to  the  serious  i-oijscquences  of  ini.])risc>ning 


THE  srOEY  OF  IRELAXT). 


the  leaders  of  the  people,  or  of  keeping  in  enslody  hun- 
dreds of  men,  the  hope  and  mainstay  of  many  a  home,  on 
the  shadow  of  a  suspicion,  or  on  strength  of  some  paltry 
accusation,  attested  by  a  perjured  policeman  or  spy.  A 
change  of  policy  was  decided  on.  The  suspects  were  re- 
leased, and  the  nation  at  large  was  also  released  from  the 
iron  rule  of  that  monster  Buckshot  Forster,  who  was 
superseded  in  office  by  Lord  Frederick  Cavendish,  as  chief 
secretary.  These  auspicious  changes  seemed  to  herald  a 
reign  of  peace  or,  at  least,  a  period  of  more  harmonious 
relations  between  the  people  and  their  rulers ;  but  that 
evil  genius,  which  in  the  life  of  a  nation,  as  in  that  of  an 
individual,  steps  in  to  mar  its  hope  and  dash  to  the  ground 
its  joyous  cup,  intruded  early  on  the  scene.  The  Phoenix 
Park  tragedy,  as  it  may  well  be  called,  occurred  on  the 
evening  of  Saturday,  6th  of  May,  1882.  Its  victims  were 
Mr.  Thomas  H.  Burke,  the  under-secretary,  and  Lord 
Frederick  Cavendish,  the  new  chief-secretary.  Under- 
secretary Burke,  on  that  evening,  was  walking  from  the 
Castle  to  his  lodge  or  official  residence  in  the  Phoenix  Park, 
when  he  accidentally  met  Lord  Cavendish,  who  accom- 
panied him  in  the  direction  he  was  going.  When  near 
the  Phoenix  Monument,  they  were  surrounded  b}'  five  or 
six  men,  armed  with  knives,  who  attacked  them  instantly. 
Surprised  and  unarmed  the  secretaries  made  scarcely  any 
resistance,  and  were  stabbed  and  hurled  to  the  ground 
where  they  expired  in  a  few  minutes.  This  awful  affair, 
as  might  well  be  expected,  aroused  a  fierce  feeling  of  in- 
dignation against  Ireland,  in  the  sister  kingdom,  more 
especially  for  the  murder  of  Lord  Cavendish,  who  was 
commissioned  to  be  the  bearer  of  an  olive-branch,  and  the 
herald  of  an  era  of  tranquillity  to  the  oppressed  country. 
Lord  Cavendish's  murder,  however,  it  has  been  almost 
conclusively  shown,  was  not  planned  nor  intended.  He 
happened  to  be  in  bad  company  on  this  occasion,  and 


THE  STOnr  OF  IRELAND. 


through  this  accident,  shared  the  fate  of  his  companion  — 
Burke  — who,  it  has. been  asserted,  busied  himself  unne- 
cessarily in  unearthing  Fenian  fugitives,  at  the  time  of  the 
Rising,  and  indicating  to  the  lord-lieutenant  the  "  Suspects  " 
of  the  Land  League  period.  This  circumstance  however, 
was  overlooked  in  the  storm  of  anger  and  indignation  pro- 
voked by  the  perpetration  of  the  cold-blooded  deed ;  and 
a  clamour  was  raised  in  the  press,  and  from  platform  and 
pulpit,  calling  on  the  government  to  put  a  period  to  the 
era  of  assassination  and  anarchy,  in  Ireland.  The  Eng- 
lish government  responded  by  framing  a  measure  —  the 
Crimes  Act  —  for  a  model  of  which  they  must  have 
searched  amongst  the  musty  records  of  the  Spanish  Inqui- 
sition, or  sought  in  the  archives  of  the  Czar.  It  conferred 
autocratic  powers  on  judges  —  trial  by  jury  being  in  abey- 
ance —  suppressed  public  meetings  and  gagged  the  press. 
In  a  word,  it  essayed  to  extinguish  the  already  faint,  flick- 
ering light  of  liberty  in  the  land. 

The  enactment  of  this  measure,  however,  was  not  ac- 
complished without  meeting  determined  but,  of  course, 
unavailing  opposition,  from  Mr.  Parnell  and  his  colleagues. 
The  powers  conferred  on  the  magistrates,  the  police  and 
the  entire  Irish  executive,  were  such  as  afforded  the  lat- 
ter facilities  for  searching  any  house  or  premises,  at  any 
hour  of  the  day  or  night ;  and  the  Phoenix  Park  murder- 
ers, though  for  months  they  eluded  search  and  inquiry 
were  at  length  in  the  toils.  It  was  discovered  that  they 
belonged  to  a  secret  society,  called  the  Irish  Invincibles," 
presided  over  by  a  man  styled  "Number  One"  and  their 
mission  was  the  assassination  of  Castle  and  other  officials 
of  the  Crown  in  Ireland. 

Soon  after  the  enactment  of  the  Crimes  Act,,  the  Ar- 
rears Act  was  introduced,  and  notwithstanding  the  at- 
tempts of  the  House  of  Lords  to  neutralize  its  beneficial 
features  by  sundry  amendments,  it  finally  became  law 


THE  sTOnr  OF  IRELAXT). 


655 


on  August  llth,  1882.  Tlic  Arrears  Act  was  intended  to 
supplement  the  Land  Act,  by  remedying  a  radical  defect 
in  the  latter.  The  small  tenants,  at  the  time  the  Land 
Act  was  passed,  were  most  of  them  in  arrear  for  three 
years'  rent.  The  Land  Courts  could  not  hear  their  case^" 
as  they  were  disqualified,  and  the  landlord  might  evict 
them  summarily.  The  Arrears  Act  was  designed  to  rem- 
edy this  distressing  state  of  things,  and  its  provisions  were, 
that  the  tenant  should  pay  one-third  the  amount  he  owed 
the  landlord ;  that  the  government  should  also  out  of  the 
public  treasur}^  pay  one-third  to  the  landlords ;  and  that 
the  landlords  should  forego  the  remaining  one-third. 

The  trials  of  the  Phoenix  Park  prisoners  took  place  in 
the  spring  of  1883,  and  lasted  nearly  two  months.  In 
their  midst  was  a  Judas  named  James  Carey,  whose 
treachery  was  of  so  black  a  hue  that  when  the  sanctimo- 
nious hypocrite  —  the  regular  church-attendant  and  meek 
Christian  —  presented  his  saturnine  visage  on  the  witness 
stand,  some  of  the  prisoners  started  back  with  a  shudder, 
incredulous  that  he  of  all  men,  who  had  plotted  the  whole 
infernal  business,  who  had  been  their  guide  and  counsellor 
and  leader,  was  there  to  sell  them  body  and  soul.  This 
he  did  to  save  his  own  dirty  skin,  and  he  accomplished 
his  object,  so  far  for  awhile,  —  for  awhile  how  brief,  the 
sequel  will  serve  to  show.  On  the  evidence  of  James  Ca- 
rey five  of  the  Invincible  prisoners  were  convicted  and 
received  the  capital  sentence.  Their  names  were  Joseph 
Brady,  Daniel  Curley,  ^Michael  Fagan.  Thomas  CafFrey 
and  Timothy  Kelly.  Their  executions  took  place  in 
Dublin,  in  the  months  of  May  and  June,  1883.  Several 
others  Received' sentence  of  penal  servitude  for  being  im- 
plicated in  the  assassination  plot. 

Such  a  blot  on  the  face  of  creation,  as  James  Carey, 
must  needs  hide  from  the  light  of  day  like  the  owl,  and  of 
all  places  on  earth  the  government  chose  for  him  a  most 


<)r>(;  THE  sTonr  of  inKLAxn. 

congenial  retreat  —  Newgate  prison,  hoary  and  l)egTinie(l 
with  the  dust  and  sooty  London  smoke  of  centuries ,  its 
atmosphere  laden  with  the  muttered  curses  and  despairing 
blasphemies  of  condemned  criminals.  This  was  the  tem- 
porary abode  of  James  Carey ;  l)etter  for  him  had  it  been 
his  permanent  residence;  and  more  appropriate  his  pas- 
sage to  that  higher  or  lower  apotheosis  which  awaited  him 
by  way  of  the  hangman's  trap,  which  on  occasion,  adorns 
the  courtyard  of  that  gloomy  hostelry.  I>ut  the  govern- 
ment must  needs  transplant,  in  one  of  its  distant  colonies, 
this  precious  sprout,  with  a  view,  doubtless,  to  the  propa- 
gation of  the  genus  informer ,  and  so  they  shipped  James 
and  his  better-half  and  chicks  to  Port  Elizabeth,  in  Cape 
Colony,  South  Africa.  Cape  Town  was  reached  in  safety, 
and  here  James  Carey  and  family  transshipped  on  board 
the  steamer  Melrose^  for  Port  Elizabeth.  Nemesis  was  on 
his  track  in  the  person  of  Patrick  0'Doi>nell,  a  fellow-pas- 
senger on  board  the  Melrose,  An  acquaintance  sprang  up 
between  the  two  men ;  and  O'Donnell,  from  the  descrip- 
tions he  had  heard  of  Carey's  personal  appearance,  was 
not  slow  in  recognizing  in  his  compagnon  de  voyage^  the 
notorious  informer ;  and  his  sensibilities  were  shocked  by 
the  discovery  that  he  had  given  the  hand  of  friendship  to 
such  a  wretch.  An  altercation  between  these  men  on 
Sunday,  29th  of  July,  1883,  resulted  (according  to  O'Don- 
nelFs  statement)  in  Carej-  drawing  his  revolver  on  0"Don- 
nell,  whereupon  O'Donnell  —  as  he  claims  in  self-defence 
—  fired  his  own  revolver  twice  at  Carey,  with  fatal  effect. 
O'Donnell  was  immediately  placed  under  arrest,  and  on 
the  arrival  of  the  Melrose^  at  Port  Elizabeth,  was  taken 
before  a  magistrate,  who  recommitted  him  for  trial  in 
England,  as  the  shooting  had  taken  place  on  the  high 
seas.  The  doom  of  O'Donnell,  tried  before  an  Englisli 
judge  and  jury,  was  a  foregone  conclusion,  and  though  lie 
had  the  advantage  of  the  most  able  counsel  that  money 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND.  657 

could  procure,  and  there  was  no  lack  of  funds  for  his  de- 
fence—  the  "Irish  World"  alone,  having  raised  upwards 
of  $55,000  for  this  purpose  —  his  conviction  was  secured. 
One  of  the  most  eminent  lawyers  of  the  New-York  bar, 
Gen.  Roger  A.  Pryor,  was  specially  retained  and  sent  to 
London,  to  assist  his  English  counsel,  Mr.  Charles  Rus- 
sell, Q.C.,  and  Mr.  A.  M.  Sullivan.  The  line  of  defence 
adopted  was  admittedly  skilful,  and  the  pleading  most 
able ;  but  reason  and  rhetoric  were  alike  unavailing  to 
make  the  least  impression  on  the  stolid  minds  of  an  Eng- 
lish jury,  swayed  by  a  strong  bias  and  bound  to  convict. 
His  execution  took  place  on  the  morning  of  17th  of  De- 
cember, 1883,  at  Newgate  Prison,  London.  At  Derry- 
beg,  in  the  county  Donegal,  where  he  was  born,  a  requiem 
mass  was  celebrated  for  the  repose  of  his  soul,  and  a  fune- 
ral procession  in  his  memory  took  place  on  the  24th  of 
January,  1884.  In  connection  with  this  latter  episode  of 
Irish  history,  two  circumstances  are  particularly  notice- 
able, namely,  that  the  "  taking  off"  of  James  Carey  evoked 
not  one  solitary  sigh  of  regret  (outside  of  his  family  cir- 
cle) throughout  the  wide  domain  of  Christendom,  nor  has 
the  act  of  Patrick  O'Donnell,  whether  criminal,  or  as  l^e 
claimed  in  self-defence,  brought  on  him  public  censure, 
living  or  dead.  And  the  reason  is  not  far  to  seek.  The 
lifeless  body  of  the  Roman  usurper,  laid  at  the  foot  of 
Pompey's  Pillar,  or  the  blood-dripping  head  of  Holofernes, 
are  not  -historical  objects  of  pity,  and  never  till  the  men 
and  women,  who  have  rid  che  world  of  tyranny,  treach- 
ery, corruption,  are  held  up  to  universal  execration,  shall 
the  stigma  of  murder  be  set  on  the  fame  of  Patrick 
O'Donnell. 

The  revolutionary  "blowing  up"  idea,  which  so  far 
back  as  the  year  1867,  at  the  Clerkenwell  explosion  took 
practical  shape,  has  been  revived  again  in  the  present 
year  and  following  on  many  abortive  attempts,  such  as 


658 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


those  on  the  Mansion  House  and  elsewhere,  has,  at  length, 
by  the  decided  impression  created  on  the  new  government 
home-offices,  in  Whitehall,  proved  to  the  world  at  large, 
that  it  is  a  factor  in  Irish  politics,  by  no  means  to  be 
ignored,  and  since  it  is  no  longer  the  comparatively  easy- 
going gunpowder  of  our  ancestors,  but  the  newly-found 
dynamite  demon,  its  possibilities  of  development  and  de- 
structiveness  are  quite  incalculable.  O'Donovan  Rossa, 
the  implacable  enemy  of  England,  who,  at  his  trial,  bearded 
the  British  Lion  in  his  den,  is  said  (with  what  amount  of 
truth,  I  am  unable  to  say)  to  be  the  guiding  spirit  of  this 
movement. 

The  year  1883  will  be  memorable  for  an  event  which 
brought  sorrow  to  many  an  Irish  heart  at  home,  and  the 
news  of  which  had  a  mournful  significance  for  thousands 
of  exiles  beyond  the  billows  of  the  Atlantic,  namely,  the 
death  of  the  illustrious  orator  and  divine  Father  Burke. 
Father  Burke's  sermons  and  lectures  attracted  thousands 
of  auditors  on  almost  every  occasion  of  their  delivery,  and 
evoked  the  highest  encomiums,  even  from  the  Protestant 
press  of  England.  They  are  marked  by  profound  learn- 
ing and  incontrovertible  logic,  and  in  their  delivery  he 
possessed  a  facility  of  expression  and  an  attractiveness  of 
style,  which  fascinated  his  hearers.  His  visit  to  America 
was  opportune,  as  it  gave  to  the  Irish  race  in  the  United 
States,  a  champion  of  their  character  and  nation,  against 
the  libellous  slanders  of  the  mercenary  historian,  James 
Anthony  Froude.  In  Father  Burke,  Froude  encountered 
a  foeman  worthy  of  his  steel.  The  great  Dominican, 
whose  ripe  scholarship  and  unerring  reasoning  powers 
fully  equipped  him  for  such  a  controversy,  scattered  to 
the  winds  the  lies  attempted  to  be  foisted  on  American 
audiences  under  the  guise  of  history ;  and  this  great  pub- 
lic service  alone  will  for  ever  endear  him  to  the  grateful 
remembrance  of  his  countrymen,  and  has  earned  for  him 


THE  STOBY  OF  IBELAND. 


659 


the  admiration  of  all  lovers  of  truth.  His  death  occurred 
at  Tallaght,  in  the  county  of  Dublin,  on  the  2d  of  July, 
1883. 

One  other  most  important  political  event  of  this  year 
remains  to  be  noted,  namely,  the  founding  of  the  National 
League,  which  has  merged  the  Land  Leagues  of  Ireland 
and  America  and  amalgamated  with  it  all  other  Irish  or- 
ganizations in  the  United  States.  The  National  Confer- 
ence, which  preceded  the  organization  of  the  National 
League,  was  held  at  the  Ancient  Concert  Rooms,  Dublin, 
on  the  7th  of  October,  1882.  It  showed  the  activity  of 
the  Irish  leaders,  and  proved  that  those  at  the  helm  would 
no  longer  sit  idly  on  their  oars,  for,  as  the  Land  League 
could  be  no  longer  made  available  for  further  usefulness, 
an  organization  to  succeed  it,  capable  of  wider  expansion 
and  with  a  broader  constitution,  was  then  and  there  dis- 
cussed. The  programme  of  the  National  League  was  sub- 
sequently drawn  up  at  a  convention  held  in  the  Rotunda, 
Dublin,  and  included  National  and  Local  self-government; 
Land  Law  Reform;  extension  of  the  parliamentary  and 
municipal  franchises,  and  also  the  development  and  en- 
couragement of  the  industrial  and  labour  interests  of  the 
country. 

The  Philadelphia  Convention,  held  in  June,  1883,  at- 
tended by  delegates  from  all  the  Irish-American  societies, 
fully  endorsed  the  constitution  drawn  up  by  the  Dublin 
Convention.  The  Land  League  being  then  declared  dis- 
solved, the  National  League,  of  America,  was  founded 
amidst  the  greatest  enthusiasm. 

So  far  runs  the  record  of  seventeen  years,  —  a  brief 
space  in  a  nation's  life,  —  yet  fraught  with  many  exciting 
national  events  in  Ireland,  and  fruitful  of  important  and 
beneficial  changes  in  her  welfare.  The  organization  of 
the  National  League  just  mentioned,  of  all  other  events, 
warrants  the  hope  with  which  this  supplementary  history 


660 


THE  STOIiY  OF  IRELAND. 


set  out,  namely,  that  the  clay  of  Ireland's  independence 
is  not  far  distant.  A  United  Ireland,  the  dream  of  her 
poets,  and  the  aim  of  her  patriots  and  martyrs  ;  the  Celtic 
race  at  home  and  in  exile,  linked  in  one  great  fraternity; 
this  have  we  seen  accomplished  in  our  day.  Guided  by 
judicious  leaders,  and  pursuing  its  course  with  unflinching 
fidelity  to  the  policy  outlined  in  its  constitution,  its  power 
and  importance  must  be  immense  ;  and  may,  at  any  criti- 
cal juncture,  prove  irresistible  to  its  ancient  foe.  Much 
has  been  accomplished  in  a  few  years,  and  the  possibilities 
of  the  future  are  incalculable.  Let  us  not  sit  idly  in  the 
market  place.  Let  each  man's  hand  be  on  the  plough, 
and  his  part  in  this  great  struggle  be  honestly  performed. 
Commensurate  with  the  fulfilment  of  these  conditions 
shall  be  the  success  of  this  great  organization ;  and  in  the 
hope  that  wisdom  will  guide  its  councils,  and  persistency 
mark  its  progress,  I  am  not  over  sanguine  in  predicting 
that  the  hope  of  this  generation  will  be  fulfilled  in  the 
next  —  a  National  Parliament  again  assembled  in  College 
Green,  above  which  shall  wave  the  green  flag  of  Ireland, 
and  proclaim  her  a  free  nation. 


THE  STORY  OF  IRELAND. 


661 


VALEDICTORY, 


Dear  Young  Fellow-Countrymen,  —  The  Story  of  our 
Country,  which  I  have  endeavoured  to  narrate  for  your  instruc- 
tion and  entertainment,  terminates  here  —  for  the  present. 
Time  as  it  rolls  onward  will  always  be  adding  to  its  chapters. 
Let  us  hope  it  may  be  adding  to  its  glories. 

The  lesson  which  the  "Story  of  Ireland"  teaches  is,  Hope, 
Faith,  Confidence  in  God.  Tracing  the  struggles  of  the  Irish 
people,  one  finds  himself  overpowered  by  the  conviction  that  an 
all-wise  Providence  has  sustained  and  preserved  them  as  a 
nation  for  a  great  purpose,  for  a  glorious  destiny. 

My  task  is  done  ;  and  now  I  bid  farewell  to  my  young  friends 
who  have  followed  my  story-telling  so  far.  I  trust  I  have  not 
failed  in  the  purpose,  and  shall  not  be  disappointed  in  the  hopes, 
which  impelled  me  to  this  labour  of  love. 

GOD  SAVE  Ireland! 


BOSTON  COLLEGE  LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  HEIGHTS 
CHESTNUT  HILL,  MASS. 


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